


Among The Gumtrees

by WolfstarGarden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Australian Marauders, Awkwardness, Bonding, Clare Valley, Country Boys, Crushes, Cultural References, Cultural Showcase, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Family, Feelings, Fluff, Friendship, Greek-Australian James, Hurt/Comfort, Immigrant Blacks, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Indigenous Remus, LGBTQ Themes, Light Angst, M/M, Music, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content, Shearer Remus, Slice of Life, South Australia, Texting, Winemaker James, Wool Farmer Sirius, and Australian, internalised biphobia, like Wolfbucks Cafe but more grown up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21786580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfstarGarden/pseuds/WolfstarGarden
Summary: Sirius inherits his uncle's farm, but finding the right farmhand isn't as simple as he'd hoped:Sirius just couldn’t help but wonder if fantasising about his straight farm assistant was maybe one boundary breach too far. On the other hand, perhaps Remus shouldn’t suck on the end of his pen while lost in thought.
Relationships: Regulus Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 309
Kudos: 332





	1. January

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this in August. It spans twelve months (/chapters) and runs 45k.
> 
> It's a response to a book a dear friend gifted me, which was aggressively closed-cultured. I decided to strike back by doing the exact same thing. This is Australia exactly as I know it, from speech to street names to sucky homophobic attitudes. The only things in this whole story that don't exist are _Terrapotter_ and _Blackowie Merino Stud_.
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> The terms "Wogboy" and "Blackfella" are socially inclusive, though always ask permission before using them.

January

**Oi lad  
** **Stop at black sheep on your way through Burra.**

**_Get fucked_ **

**I’ve already ordered. You just have to pick up**

**_I hate you_ **

l-l

The evening shadows were slanting low across the hills as James settled beneath the bullnose. He put his feet up on the railing and slouched low in his seat, nose wrinkled against a reek of citronella as he raised his Tooheys and took a long gulp.

He was freshly showered and barely dressed and waiting for the tell-tale rumble of tyres up the rocky, pot-hole ridden driveway. He endured several false starts before  _ finally _ a smog of hot dust stirred in the air and was followed by the approaching growl of an engine.

James sat up straight, watching with eager eyes as a familiar old Ford ute crunched around the sweep in the crazy-long driveway and came into view through the flanks of ancient gum trees. His heartbeat quickened, breath snagging excitedly in the base of his throat.

The ute squeaked to a stop, engine still chugging as the door creaked open.

James sprang to his feet, throwing his arms wide in welcome and slopping a fizz of beer all down his arm. “Blackfella!”

“Wogboy!” came the warm, yet deliberately more moderated reply. But the grin was irrepressible and the gleam in Remus’ eyes as he trotted over to meet James on the steps was far and away the highlight of his day. 

James jumped down and flung his arms around Remus, crushing him. “You’re really fucking here,” he grinned. “Jesus  _ fuck _ , you’re skinny.”

“What about you?” Remus said incredulously, stepping back and throwing scouring eyes over him. “You must weigh, like, forty kilos.”

“Sixty-eight,” James sneered cheerfully. “S’good ta see you, mate. Back home, eh? Where you belong.”

“Maybe,” Remus said. His evasiveness both annoyed and warmed James; it was so endearingly familiar. “Food’s on the front seat. Get it while I let the dogs off?”

“ _ Food _ ,” James echoed. Grinning, he followed Remus back towards the ute, starving eyes absorbing him. He retrieved the boxes from the cab and leaned against the door as Remus killed the engine, pocketed his keys, and then hoisted himself onto the tray. “Lookin’ good, cowboy.”

“Fuck up,” Remus said vaguely. He crouched down beside the motorbike strapped securely to the roll bar and thrust his long fingers into the plush coat of his kelpie. Her tail skittered frantically across the metal, too well-trained to do more than wriggle. Beside them, his cattle dog puppy yipped and leaned on her chain. His fingers were deft with the clips and after moments the dogs scampered over the tailgate and bounded towards James’ garden.

Remus hooked his boot onto the side of the ute and hopped down, all wiry limbs and easy grace and looking achingly like James remembered. He met Remus’ crooked, questioning smile with one of his own and muttered, “Bloody missed you.”

“Yeah, alright.” Remus smiled and ducked away from his gaze. “I can really tell by the effort you made. Couldn’ta put on  _ clothes _ before I got here?”

“Too fuckin’ hot for clothes,” James said, leading the way back towards the verandah with a jerk of the head. Still damp, his hair flipped across his brow and left a smudge of steam across his glasses. “Do you know what it got to today?”

“I came from  _ Broken Hill _ , Prongs,” Remus said. He gave a low whistle and the dogs came running. Their reunion was paused while Remus tended to them, and it was getting properly dark by the time they both fell into seats outside, the air balmy but fresh, scented with beer and pizza. 

James stretched his bare legs out, idly tugging the hem of his Tradie shorts. “Wish you’d gotten here earlier.”

Remus snorted and threw his crusts to the dogs. They happily crunched them, patiently settled by his seat. “I wanted to avoid the worst of the heat. Not that it matters, it was still thirty degrees when left Burra.”

“Sure,” James said, sinking his teeth into a slice and talking around a mouthful. “But still. Two years without you is too long, Moony.”

Remus raised his beer, drinking deep. Condensation rolled over the shoulder of his bottle, dripping against his fingers. He swallowed and cleared his throat, voice forcibly even. “I was here at Easter, Prongs.”

“ _ Easter _ was eight months ago,” James snapped.

“Mm,” Remus murmured, ignoring him. “This is pretty great pizza.”

“Moony.”

“Leave it, Prongs,” Remus said, not looking at him. “I’m here now, okay? It’s enough.” 

Blinking slowly as the night grew comfortable and dark around them, James stayed silent. It wasn’t enough for him but he was grateful for it all the same.

l-l

_ Six weeks earlier… _

“He just … gave you the farm?” James asked, sliding a pint over to Sirius and dropping into the seat across from him.

“Yup,” Sirius confirmed. “Happy christmas, here’s three thousand hectares and a bunch of fly-blown sheep.”

“So, what? He’s retiring then? Or what?”

“Well,” Sirius sniffed a deep breath and settled back in his seat. “So he says. But honestly, it’s more ‘cause his health is catching up to him and he can’t keep up.”

James paused, giving Sirius a careful glance. “He okay?”

Sirius shrugged, pressing a fingertip up the dribbling condensation on his glass. “With Alphard, who knows? I’ve got my doubts.”

“What about your brother?” James asked, inwardly cringing at the edge that crept into his voice.

Sirius’ brow twitched and his eyes dropped to follow the sudden nervous drum of James’ fingertips on the wooden tabletop. “What about him?”

“What’s his plan?”

Shrugging again, Sirius said with a contrived flippancy, “No idea.”

“Is he gonna re-enrol?”

“If you’re so interested in  _ him _ ,” Sirius snapped, raising his glass and scowling at James over the foam, “why don’t you  _ ask him _ . I’m not a fucking postie.”

James squinted at him sourly. “Just makin’ conversation, arsehole.”

“Uh huh.” Sirius’ grey eyes were uncomfortably sharp.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sirius said, his lofty tone accentuating the relative poshness of his lingering Londoner accent. It made James want to hit him in the face. “Just, I notice that you always drag every conversation around to him.”

James knew Sirius was suggesting something he wasn’t prepared to own. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh,” Sirius repeated, sounding bored.

“Anyway,” James said, irritated. He shoved a hand through his hair, ruffling it back from his brow. “We weren’t actually talking about me.”

“No!” Sirius agreed, emerging from his glass with a half-grin. “We weren’t, amazingly. Good of you to realise, wanker.”

“Get over yourself,” James said, and flicked a Coopers coaster at him. “So. What’s  _ your _ plan then?”

Sirius paused, setting his glass down. He licked his lips thoughtfully then admitted, “I’m not fully sure yet. Like, I’ve been doing a lot of stuff anyway, but now there’s no backup. I reckon I might look at hiring a full-time assistant.”

“Really?” James asked, hooking a surprised brow. He carefully hid his disappointment at the realisation that Regulus was obviously not planning to come home. 

“Yeah, well. We get blokes in as needed of course. But an all-rounder to help out with the heavy work would be good.”

James sat back and studied him for a moment, a curl of hope settling in his chest. “I reckon I know just the guy.”

l-l

_ Present…  _

Fatigue was James’ friend when it came to getting Remus to open up. Switching from beer to bourbon helped too.

“So  _ are _ you glad to be back? Like, Country and all of that?”

“Shut the fuck up, James. You dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

There was a soft pause and then James reached across the rickety table between them and nudged Remus’ fingers with his own. “D’you miss her heaps still?” he asked, voice very low.

“Yeah,” Remus rasped. He dropped his elbows to his knees and leant forwards to scratch his puppy behind the ear, blatantly avoiding James’ sympathy. 

“ _ Talk to me _ , you jerk.”

Remus sighed. “I feel … guilty about it.”

“About what?” James asked, peering at him.

Lifting the puppy into his lap, Remus bowed his face against her coat. “You mummy’s beautiful girl?” he cooed in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible. Then he tipped just slightly towards James and said, “She always wanted me to be more … y’know, interested.  _ Involved _ . In our heritage. In Country. And I just  _ couldn’t _ , because, well. You know. It was already too bloody hard, right? And now she’s gone and I regret not having that bond, not having shared something so important with her.”

“Moony, she loved you.”

“Yeah, and I turned my back on everything that mattered to her. And then I ran away.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” James said. “You were grieving, you’re allowed to grieve. And now you’re home. You can like, get in touch with your Elders or whatever and get back in touch.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Remus said on an exhale. Then he stood up abruptly, cradling the dog to his chest. “I really need a fucking shower, mate.”

James knew better than to reason with him once Remus detached. So he swallowed the last of his liquor and led the way into the old stone house James had been occupying since he was twenty-one, mostly by himself. He didn’t need to show Remus anything, but he did anyway, steering him towards the bathroom.

Remus gave the dog’s ear a playful bite and then passed her to James. Their hands touched and James lingered, holding Remus’ eyes with a steely glare. “Would you be here if I hadn’t lined this job up for you?”

Remus drew back and reached for the door. “Maybe,” was all the answer he gave before he graced James with a sparkling grin and shoved the door closed in his face.


	2. February

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boy-meets-boy ( _or_ bloke-meets-bloke), a bit of internalised angst, and a bullride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too soon for an update? Meh. Too fuckin' hot for informed decisioning.

February

“You had to buy a Holden, didn’t you?” Remus teased as he slipped into the passenger seat.

“Better than your old rust bucket.”

“Nothing’s better than a Ford and you’re delusional.”

“And I know for a fact that you don’t actually give a fuck, so shut up.”

“Yes, dear,” Remus said lightly. He sank down in his seat, stretching into the footwell as James steered them towards Jolly Way. He trundled along at less than forty kilometres, dust swirling into the bleached air behind them as stones skittered off his tyres. 

His eyes dragged towards the withered, parched paddocks. Dun and crispy, they stretched as far as he could see, studded with mallee trees and the deep-cracked earth of empty dams.

It was six pm, it was still thirty-seven degrees, and James was taking him to meet his new boss. It wasn’t far from James’ house on the edge of the  _ Terrapotter _ vineyard to the  _ Blackowie Merino _ stud, and fifteen minutes later Remus was throwing a nostalgic glance towards Martindale Hall as James turned east off the Min Man Road.

Minutes later the car was parked out the front of an old, immaculate farmhouse. Remus followed James through the gate to the inner yard and there, in a sheltered garden, was a young man not at all like Remus had pictured; his hair was long and dishevelled, falling haphazardly out of a tie. His skin was far too white for him to dare being shirtless, and yet he was, dressed instead in a slick of sweat and soil as he waved a hose across a well-tended garden bed.

Something hot pooled in Remus’ belly, spreading a wavering warmth into his loins. He forced it down and concreted over it with humour. Wagging his elbow into James’ arm, he leaned closer and grinned, “Now, see.  _ That’s _ how a man your height is  _ supposed  _ to look, ya fuckin’ beanpole.”

James cast a sideways glance at him, mouth pulling into a curious smile. “You lookin’ at him?”

Smiling carefully, Remus shook his head, curls brushing his jaw. “Nuht. Not interested.”

“Uh huh,” James said, eyes shrewd. Then he shrugged and yelled, “Oy, Ross Poldark! We’re here.”

There was a muttered curse, barely audible over the pattering shower of water, and then Sirius turned and Remus sank his teeth into his tongue to stop the muscles in his face reacting. 

It had been awhile since he’d been so immediately attracted to a man. It annoyed him.

“Oh hey,” Sirius said. “Didn’t hear you pull up. Hold on.” He pulled the trigger lock on the spray head and crossed to the tap, coiling the hose along his forearm as he went. Tossing the loop down, he twisted the faucet off, metal links creaking. He straightened up, brusquely rubbing his hands on his jeans. “Cuppa?”

“Sounds great.” James shoved a palm into the small of Remus’ back and they followed him inside, where it was blissfully air-conditioned.

There was fractured, obligatory small-talk as Sirius put the kettle on, making drinks before leading them into a dark lounge room. “Okay, so - oh, fuck! I’m missing  _ Neighbours _ .”

In utter bemusement, Remus cradled his coffee as Sirius snatched a remote control up, blipped the telly on and shamelessly flopped back into his armchair, punching the channel over to Peach.

“ _ Neighbours _ ?” James smirked. “Really? At a job interview?”

“It has cute and compelling gays, shut your face.”

Despite himself, Remus’ eyes dragged across to him, shirtless and tattooed and lazing. James was making a series of random eyebrow movements that Remus had no trouble interpreting: his new boss was gay and single and James reckoned he should have a go.

Remus jabbed two fingers at him and adamantly glared at a spiderweb draped above the hallway door.

It wasn’t until the soap was over that Sirius finally turned back to him. Legs thrown over the arm of his chair, he spoke with lazy efficiency, an accent warming his vowels. “So, we’ll start on a trial basis. Six months. You can have the shearer’s quarters, it’s done up mod-cons and furnished, and it’s on a separate lot so you’re responsible for your utilities, but the board is free.”

“Sounds fine,” Remus said mildly, eyes scoping towards James’ intent, distracting expression. “And after six months?”

Sirius shrugged. “If I like you, you can stay on. But I expect hard work.”

“Fine,” Remus repeated. “When d’you want me to start?”

“Soon as you can,” Sirius said, raising a contemplative eyebrow. Whatever he was thinking, he kept to himself.

“After Marrabel,” James said firmly. He flicked a glance at Sirius. “You comin’ to that?”

“Do I have to?” he asked, but even Remus could tell his disdain was put on.

“Yup. We’re swaggin’ it, you can camp down with us. S’gonna be awesome, Barking Ants are playing again this year.”

“Whatever,” Sirius said. “Yeah, I’ll come then. For the dancing.”

“Excellent,” James said, thumbing his glasses up. His eyes rolled towards Remus, cunning and irritating. “You can dance with Moony. He’s got moves.”

“Shut up, James,” Remus said. He kept his voice perfectly neutral, his face perfectly calm. It worked to make James hold his tongue until they were driving home.

The sun was just beginning to set as they headed back hours later, a deep orange glow casting up from the horizon as they wove back through the hills. It was still hot, but the air was fresh with a promised respite and they had the windows down, driving back through the vague sounds of the night time bush.

“He’s an alright bloke, Moony,” James said as they hit the hundred signs on the way out of Mintaro. “I reckon you’ll do right with him.”

“To work for, you mean,” Remus murmured, gazing out the window. A mob of Greys were lazing in a valley paddock, black Angus cattle lowing echoes up the hillside. 

“To whatever you want.”

“Don’t even start on that, Prongs. I fuckin’ mean it.”

James eyed him briefly. His voice was careful, deceptively light when he asked, “Why not?”

Remus waited a long time, wondering whether or not to answer. Finally, as James slowed and turned back onto the unsealed road, he confessed, “I’m not into guys.”

“I have a block of merlot grapes that remembers differently.”

“I don’t date blokes anymore,” Remus corrected himself smoothly. He could hear James’ irritation bubbling beneath his swarthy skin, braced himself for the critical words to come.

There was a pause while James obviously strove to find a careful tone, but his usual brashness crept in anyway and the words sounded more acerbic than Remus knew was intended. “I’m gonna need you to explain.”

Remus slumped beneath his seatbelt, hunched his knees against the dust-speckled dashboard. “Look, I’m not like you. And since I have the choice, I choose not to.”

Reaching across the centre console, James rested his fingertips against Remus’ arm. “Something happen up there?”

Sighing, Remus turned his head away, gazed blankly at the fuzzy silhouettes of an old olive grove. “Nah, I mean … I’ve already got enough going against me, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but -”

“Fuck off, James.”

The space between them was heavy with everything James was forcing himself not to say. Remus’ heart thrummed hard inside his chest, and he was grateful to spend the rest of the drive in silence.

l-l

“I prefer the rodeo,” Remus said, squinting despite his Akubra and sunglasses. “I like the horses.”

“Why look at the horses when you can check out the cowboys,” Sirius said cheerily, catching one lip between his teeth and flicking his eyebrows. Remus left the comment unacknowledged; it wasn’t directed at him.

James strode up to them, sheltered from the afternoon sun by the long stand of gumtrees on the northern edge of the oval. The air was filled with aroma: burnt dust and warm bullocks and the charred sizzle of sausage fat. James slid a wet can of Bundy into Remus’ hand. It rested icy against his clammy palm.

“You alright?” James asked him lowly. 

“Mhm,” Remus murmured, mouth pressed tight.

“What?” Sirius asked, taking his drink from James. 

Despite James’ scowl, Remus kept determinedly silent. Behind his prescription sunnies, Remus knew he was rolling his eyes. In a low growl, he told Sirius, “Moony got stopped when we came in.”

“What?” Sirius repeated, voice sharp with incredulity. “What the fuck for?”

“Why d’you think?” Remus asked easily. He hid behind his can, drinking to keep his mouth silent. A foam of sweet bubbles and dry rum washed over his tongue and he swallowed gratefully. Sirius was watching him, brow creased into a thoughtful frown. 

They settled on the steep bank and chattered between the rides. James and Sirius teased and flirted with each other and Remus ignored them, happy to absorb the atmosphere - the painful falls and epic rides and angry bulls putting their horns down and chasing broncs out of the pen.

When it ended, they wandered back to their cars to wait for the music. The sun was slipping away and the mosquitos were surfacing. Remus dropped the tailgate on his ute and sat on the tray, making space for James when he jumped up beside him. 

“It’s a good crowd,” James said as Sirius pulled drinks from their shared Esky and passed them around. He had food as well; James refused to eat anything from a public barbecue. “Bet I can pull tonight.”

Sirius arched his eyebrows and pushed his hat off, scrubbing a hand through sweaty hair. “Don’t make too much noise, will you?”

“Find someone to distract you,” James said impatiently, swinging his legs.

“Not exactly the kinda place for me to meet someone,” Sirius said, sounding bored. “I’m just here for a dance.”

“Your loss,” James said. His elbow pressed into Remus’ side. “What about you, Moony?”

He shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“When d’ja last get a leg over, jackaroo?” James asked, nudging him again.

Feeling Sirius’ eyes on him, Remus decided not to answer. Instead, he pulled his feet up onto the tray and curled his knees against his chest. “You’re an arsehole,” he muttered around the lip of his can. “I miss my dogs, they’re far better company than you.”

“Spoken like a man who’s forgotten the joys of sex. I’ll find ya someone, Moony.”

“I hate you,” Remus replied flippantly and drained his drink, ignoring the burn of fizz tickling down his oesophagus. 

The conversation turned to work - the tasks James was scheduling at the vineyard, the work happening on Sirius’ farm, the plans for Remus’ official move and start date. It was a far safer topic, and Remus finally joined in with them, gradually relaxing as the rum worked its magic on his mind.

“I hear music!” James yelped as the band finally picked up. “C’mon dudes.”

It was still early and just light enough for much of the crowd to be too sober and self-conscious for dancing. Remus laughed as James went up to people bopping their heads or tapping their feet and dragged them in front of the torquey. Between him and the Barking Ants well-honed lineup, it wasn’t long before the oval began to fill up.

Remus recognised a smattering of faces, local names fluttering through his disinterested mind. Sirius appeared content to dance alone. He looked good, and Remus wasn’t the only one watching. A group of girls clutching UDLs edged nearer to him. Sirius didn’t even seem to notice them.

“C’mon Moony, not like you to be a wallflower,” James called, then he grabbed Remus’ hands and dragged him towards Sirius.

“ _ Baby! _ ” the band played and people roared approval, the growing number of dancers jumping in excitement. “ _ You were always gonna be the one! _ ”

Sirius looked around and grinned, hair whipping across his neck. He reached towards Remus and he went rigid, startled. “If you’re on the pull,” he said over the music, fingers cradling Remus’ sunglasses. “You need to show the chicks you’re trustworthy.”

“I…”

“Nuht, it’s time. Boss’s orders.” Sirius lifted his sunnies off and slid them around the crown of Remus’ hat, resting them delicately on the brim. He smiled, wide and charming and Remus blinked in the sudden glare. Their eyes met and held and despite every effort, a smile pulled at Remus’ mouth. “You look good, mate.”

Swinging an arm around each of them, James hollered, “ _ We were always best of friends! _ ” He swayed forcefully, dragging them into a dance.

There were more drinks, and singing, and more girls eyeing Sirius, who brushed them all off with a happy grin, tapping his chest and sticking his tongue in his cheek to emulate giving gay oral when one was too insistent. The night fell dark and drunken. Remus relaxed into it and lost count of his drinks.

James had a knack for figuring out who was up for it and managed to wingman for Remus despite his half-arsed protestations. The girl was bright and soft, hips moving meaningfully against his. Remus eyed her bare thighs, her arse in tiny denim shorts and decided to go with it.

Ralph Biagi sang, “ _ Am I ever gonna see your face again?! _ ” and the entire crowd, Remus included, chorused back, “ _ No way, get fucked, fuck off! _ ” The girl he was dancing with winked, her fingers on his arm. Remus slid his hand down her waist and smiled, stepping closer.

The song veered and changed, the familiar strains of ‘Eagle Rock’ pulling through the air and Remus groaned. All around them, men began yanking their belts open and dropping their jeans to their ankles.

The girl laughed and wrapped her fingers around Remus’ belt. “What a wonderful idea,” she beamed. “But why don’t you wait until we get back to my swag?” She gave a beckoning tug.

Throwing a glance towards James - who was happily sans trousers with one arm around his own random girl and the other around an equally de-jeaned Sirius - Remus indicated with a tip of the head that he was leaving. James grinned and blew him a kiss and then returned to singing.

By the time Remus stumbled back to his ute the music was long finished and the Marrabel night had turned customarily cold. He was not entirely sober and felt limpid and a little silly as he made it back to the riverbank to find his swag unrolled on the ute bed. James’ swag was stretched under the hang of the tray and very empty. 

“Hey,” a cracked voice called and Remus turned towards Sirius’ four-wheel drive parked alongside him. His head poked through a window in the cargo space. “How’d it go?”

A smile tugged the edge of Remus’ mouth. “Oh yeah. Not bad.”

Sirius’ face was a study in shadows, a ghostly pallor cast by distant camp lights and the open night sky filled with brilliant stars. “You crashing then?”

“Uh…”

“Climb in here. Have a chat with me.”

“Oh.”

“C’mon,” Sirius said. He shifted, swinging the door open from inside. Remus clambered into the gap. Sirius was stretched out on his belly, snuggled inside a sleeping bag.

Remus’ blood was suffused with sex, a swarm of endorphins sweeping through his blood, and seeing Sirius the way he was stirred his nerves, made him want to go again. It set his resolve; this was without doubt the perfect time for him to begin conditioning himself not to find Sirius attractive.

He grinned up at Remus, eyes inviting beneath a cheekily arched brow. “You were gone fuckin’ ages.”

“I’m a gentleman,” Remus said. “Even if it’s just about getting off, ya gotta make it worth your time, right?”

“Sure,” Sirius shrugged. “I dunno. I’m not so much into the hook-up culture.”

“Oh…” Remus glanced down at his hands, twisting them idly in his lap. 

“M’not judging. S’just not for me, you know?” 

“Is this conversation heading towards rules of boarding or something?” Remus asked softly. 

Sirius’ head tipped sideways. He rested his chin in one palm, gazing at Remus thoughtfully. “Nah. You might’ve noticed I’m not big on formal boundaries.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll strike a balance,” Remus murmured.

Twitching an eyebrow, Sirius considered him at length, silent and sleepy. A breeze cast across the Light River, icy despite the balmy night and Remus shivered. Sirius shifted slightly. “Get in here and shut the door, would you?”

“Ah…” Remus swallowed, eyeing him uncertainly. “You sure?”

“ _ Sure _ ,” Sirius said, grinning. His arm snaked past Remus’ legs as he swung them into the vehicle and pulled the door shut with a creak of hinges and a dusty thud. “Mm. So. You always this nervous?”

“Uh. I mean, no…” Remus said, eyeing him uncertainly. “I’m … reserved, I guess. Is entertaining you a part of the job?”

Sirius sniggered and nudged his foot with gentle knuckles. “Of course not. But it’d certainly be a perk if we get on.”

“I’m very easy to get on with,” Remus smiled. It was stuffy in the back of the car, but the air that crept through the window was fresh. It carried Sirius’ scent towards him.

“Well, you’re a gentleman,” Sirius cheeked him. His eyes were soft in the dim glow. “Did you have a girlfriend in Broken Hill, then?”

Remus eyed him then shook his head. “Nah.”

There was a beat of silence, then Sirius prompted, “Just ‘nah’?”

“People … don’t always take to me,” Remus said pointedly.

“That’s bullshit,” Sirius said darkly, catching his meaning. 

“That’s country people,” Remus said dismissively. “I’m used to it. Broken Hill’s kinda rough, you know? Work-hard, play-hard type’a folks.”

The way Sirius watched him was unnerving. His eyes were frank and clear, heavy-lidded with tiredness and yet he seemed far more intent on Remus than on sleep. “What did you do up there?”

“Sniff petrol,” Remus said. Sirius’ knuckles dug into him again, more firmly, and he sighed. “I worked on a stud. Big one. Over seventy-five thousand hectares. It was nice being a faceless number in a field of workers, you know? But it was pretty isolating, too.”

“You weren’t friends with the other staff?”

“Like I said,” Remus repeated carefully. “People don’t always take to me.”

Sirius ground his jaw in a hard circle; Remus could hear his teeth scraping and cringed. “There’s a bigger Indigenous population there, though, right?”

Frustration bubbled inside Remus’ chest and escaped on a huffed breath. “Well, yeah. But that’s not how it works, you know.”

“Fuck,” Sirius said and bit his lip. His head tipped sideways and he squinted at Remus. “I only meant … jesus, I’m a tactless arsehole but I didn’t mean to be offensive.”

Remus sighed and rubbed his fingertips over his knee, grounding himself with the rasp of denim against his skin. “It’s a totally different world up there. And yes, it’s plenty racist.”

Sirius kept watching him, chewing his lip. Remus stared back impassively. “Why’d you go there?” Sirius asked softly. 

“My dad lives there.”

“Right,” Sirius said and the silence that fell was heavier than the ones before. Then he patted Remus’ knee idly, their fingers overlapping. “Make sure you tell me if I say something outta line, yeah? I don’t know as much as I maybe should.”

Drawing his hand away, Remus muttered, “Neither do I.” Sirius’ fingers settled on his jeans, lazy and still. Remus was painfully aware of them. Despite James’ initial hopefulness, Remus had no intention of changing his mind and even if he did, Sirius definitely did not appear interested. But random touching was too much at the moment. A yawn crept up Remus’ throat and he used it as an excuse. “Hey, d’you mind if I call it?”

“‘Course not,” Sirius said, smiling again. His fingers blessedly pulled away and shoved the door open for him. “You must be shattered, eh?”

“Yeah,” Remus said, pushing his lips into tired grin. He skittered towards the door, stuck his boots on the ground and paused. “Thanks for rolling out my swag.”

“No wukkers, mate.”

l-l

Remus woke after about five hours when James cheerily jumped onto the tray and jostled him. “What a great night, eh Moony?” he asked, unzipping the swag and shoving his head in. “You getting up or shall I climb in with you?”

Groaning, Remus shoved himself into a sit. “Do you know what a fucking hangover is, mate?”

“Only second-hand. Don’t worry, they’ve started the barbie. Recovery breakfast is only four hundred metres away.”

“I hate you so much,” Remus said, shoving his hair back with a rough hand.

“Here,” James said and pressed a bottle of water into his hand.

“Keep it fuckin’ down, would’ja?” Sirius barked, voice muffled. His accent tarnished the words. 

“Nah, time to get moving ya lazy Pom. Go and fetch my beautiful Moony breakfast. He’ll be fetching enough for you starting the weekend.”

“He’ll be gettin’ paid well for the trouble,” Sirius retorted, head popping up at the window.

“Not well enough,” James said to Remus. “He’s an arse, this bloke.”

“M’sure I’ll survive,” Remus mumbled, grouching and moving over as James decided to force himself into the swag after all.

It was nearly two hours before they managed to get past the initial grogginess and pack up. Remus let James, who despite drinking the most had absolutely no side effects to deal with, drive his ute.

“Piece-a-shit Ford,” James hummed happily as he adjusted the seat. “Found on a rubbish dump.”

“If you speak again today I will murder you.” Remus put his feet up on the seat and his head against the window.

“Where’s ya stamina, bro?” James cranked the engine and reached over to fiddle the radio. Remus slapped his hand away. “Oy mate, I’m driving, I get to pick the music.”

“Fuckin’ leave it.”

‘ _ I will not let them hold me back no more… _ ’

“For someone who got laid last night, you’re pretty grumpy.”

“I like this song. You can change it after.”

‘ _ My future I am in control. _ ’

“Fi-ine,” James said as he put the car in gear and began to follow Sirius’ Patrol out of the field. “I’m glad you came out with us.”

Remus smiled reluctantly, eyes lingering on the statue of Curio as they paused at the intersection. “Me too,” he murmured, and all-in-all, he was.


	3. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, updates either Saturday morning or Tuesday nights ... and on good weeks, maybe both.

March

**_Because it’s my birthday_ **

Sirius frowned at James’ text in disgruntled bemusement.

**Your bday is next week  
** **Let’s do it then. I luv ya but i don’t have the time**

**_But it was Remus’ bday last week and we did nothing!_ **

Sirius swallowed and randomly glanced towards the shearer’s quarters. He couldn’t see it; almost a kilometre away from his own small but impressive farmhouse, there were slopes and stands of eucalypts that kept both buildings well hidden.

He hadn’t known Remus had just had a birthday. Indeed, despite being three weeks into full-time working together, Sirius knew pretty much fuck all about Remus.

Sometimes, when the wind was right, Sirius could hear the cheerful yipping of the cattle dog puppy, and the confident bark of the handsome black kelpie. Some evenings, when the wind was perfectly non-existent, he fancied he heard a guitar singing in the echoes between the hills.

He was not given to charity, and James had had reason over the years to call him out for a lack of compassion. He hadn’t hired Remus because he was James’ friend, but because his resume was beyond impressive and his referees, despite Remus’ assertion that he was invisible and unliked, were glowing.

He had delivered more than Sirius had banked on in the first week alone. When Sirius had taken Remus over the property, he jotted notes down on a Spirax notepad otherwise kept folded under the hatband of his Akubra.

His expression was unreadable as he passed a scoping gaze over the flock in the river paddock. “These ewes are mulesed.”

“These ones are, yeah,” Sirius said, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I’ve got different bloodlines with bare arses. I dunno if you can keep up with crutching the rest. My uncle wasn’t sentimental about mulesing but James never shuts up about it.”

Remus nodded slowly and pushed his hat down, shielding his eyes. “You got your own dogs?”

Sirius scowled. “Alphard had an old border collie. Took him nomading.”

Remus clicked the black ink into his Bic pen and made a note. “What’s next?”

When they were done Remus had presented him with a sheaf of scrappy pages covered in suggestions and opportunities he would never have thought of. A roar of blood had flooded his mind with offense, snappish words barbing his tongue. “Now look-!”

“ _ You _ look,” Remus had said with perfect nonchalance. He tapped his finger to the paper; it rustled and crinkled in Sirius’ angry grip. “This is what you brought me in for. They’re just ideas. Lemme know what you think.” He shrugged and flicked the brim of his hat with his forefinger then strode towards his ute, leaving Sirius standing in his driveway.

His indignance dissipated that evening as he considered the notes Remus had given him; all of it was spot on.

He knew his stuff when it came to wool farming. He knew a lot about farming in general, and even more about the region.

When Sirius attempted to use it to strike a conversation, Remus merely shrugged and thumbed his sunglasses up. “I was born here. I grew up on farms. I’ve never known anything else. It’s circumstantial.”

He refused a post-work drink every time Sirius offered. He was not only comfortable with long silences but appeared to actively prefer them. He was something of an enigma.

Sirius had not known it was his birthday.

**Prongs. I really have shit to do**

**_c’mon  
_ ** **_c’mon  
_ ** **_c’mon  
_ ** **_c’mon_ **

**FINE  
** **Arsehole**

l-l

“Get in,” Sirius called through the open window.

Remus kissed his puppy’s head and gave her a final warm squeeze before popping her down. She wriggled and bounced, but he snapped his fingers and both dogs trotted to the door. Remus put them inside then loped down the porch and up to the car.

Sirius’ eyes dragged along the line of his thigh as he grabbed the jesus bar and hoisted himself up the running board. Catching his glance, Remus offered a perfunctory, “Morning,” and swiveled down in his seat. Sirius snapped his gaze frontwards, heartbeat rattling in his chest, and levelled his foot on the accelerator before Remus had even got his belt on.

It wasn’t until he turned west that Remus spoke again. His voice was soft, genuinely baffled. “Where are we going?”

“ _ Terrapotter _ .”

“Hey? I thought we…”

“Yeah, the irrigation, I know. But James is a fucking arse and nagged me into having a beach day.”

“Oh,” Remus said, surprise lifting his tone. Then he frowned. “But I’m not dressed for the beach.”

“Apparently,” Sirius said, voice grating with wry irritation, “he has that catered for.”

Remus’ head turned slightly, and Sirius knew he was getting a sideways glance. But Remus didn’t speak, simply stretched his legs into the footwell and crossed his ankles. 

They switched cars when they got to James’. Remus slid lithely into the backseat of his Commodore and fumbled a pair of earbuds out of his jeans. 

“Oy,” James snapped. “What about your motion sickness?”

“Don’t drive like a fuck-knuckle and I should be fine,” Remus grumbled and shoved his headphones in, one brow arched aggressively. He pulled the door shut in James’ face.

“Whatever,” he muttered and turned to Sirius. “Alright, you in the front then.”

The drive was long, the white sunlight warm through the windows. James blathered away about the trials of his seasonal pickers being a group of Hipsters and his anticipation of AFL round one being only a week away. Remus appeared content to ignore them and when Sirius glanced around at him, he discovered Remus with his legs curled up on the seat, earbuds in and eyes closed.

They reached Moonta and James turned off before the beach. “Uh, where’re we going?” Sirius asked, eyeing him.

“I wanna tramp around the mines while we’re here,” James said brightly.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Prongs, they never change.”

“I like them! Shut ya face.”

Giving his head an indulgent shake, Sirius fell silent. 

They spent the next hour traipsing across the Hughes’ Engine House site. James skittered under the safety rails and nearly gave Sirius a heart attack when he walked down the collapsed slope towards the pit. “If you fucking fall you’ll die, you dickhead!”

“I’m not gonna fall!” James snapped back, sneering. “I do this every time I come here, relax loser.”

Sirius glanced at Remus for backup, but he had not yet turned his music off. He watched James with something soft crimping the edge of his mouth though, and Sirius realised he wasn’t going to be a voice of reason.

He wondered at the expression hidden beneath Remus’ sunglasses as he surveyed the buildings, clambering up the crumbling banks and rubbing his palm over the green-stained stones. He wanted to ask about it, curious about how much Remus was involved with the traditions of his people, how it felt to see custodial land marred by forgotten industry. He decided against it; he wasn’t sure if it was indelicate and Remus was certainly not a forthcoming type of man.

Once James was finished risking his life, they piled back into the car and drove the last few kilometres to the beach at Port Hughes. 

“Wow,” Remus said softly from the back seat and Sirius craned around to look at him. “This has grown while I was away.”

“Yeah, well,” James’ voice was hatchet-sharp. “That’s what happens when you take off for fuckin’ years.”

“Get over it,” Remus said without emphasis, and fell silent again. Sirius pivoted around and glanced at James, but his brow was pinched in a way that forbade questioning. In silence, he drove along Minnie Terrace and selected a spot at the south end of the carpark. James’ spirits were renewed as he bounded out of the car and hopped towards the playground, striding up the plastic slippery-dip before Sirius had even gotten out of the car.

Grinning, he jogged over to join James - but Remus wandered immediately for the beach access stairs and disappeared behind the bank. Blinking, Sirius stared after him.

“C’mon, whatcha doing?” James called, bouncing at the top of the playground and setting the whole thing wobbling. 

Waiting another moment, Sirius turned and climbed up beside James. “Does he not want to be here or something?” he asked James.

He laughed. “Moony’s just doing his own thing, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, but is he alright?”

“‘Course he is,” James said, squinting at him in bemusement. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“I dunno,” Sirius snapped, frustration bleeding into his words. “I just … he never says anything. I got no idea what the fuck he’s thinking.” 

“That’s just him,” James said, grasping the playground security bars and swaying, setting it rocking again. “See mate, when you’re raised in an environment that targets ya, you learn to be unobtrusive and self-reliant. He’s fine.”

Sirius eyed him sharply, unconvinced. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m always sure.” There was a silence and he glanced around, met Sirius’ eyes. “What?”

“Just…” Sirius bit his lip as he weighed his words up under James’ expectant glare. “He doesn’t seem like someone you’d be mates with.”

“You’re a fuckhead,” James said, turning away and bounding across the little wooden bridge in a clump of unnecessarily heavy footfalls. “He’s my best mate ever.”

“Oy,” Sirius said, injecting his voice with faux-affront and inwardly cringing as it enhanced his accent. “I thought I was your best mate.”

“ _ You _ ?” James grinned. “I don’t even love you. Get over yourself.”

“No,” Sirius agreed slyly, biting back a laugh. “We both know you only hang around me because of my brother.”

It pulled James up short. He threw Sirius a dirty look over his shoulder. “For the record,” he grumbled. “ _ You _ brought him up, not me.”

“Mm,” Sirius teased, skipping over the bridge and swinging up on to the monkey bars. He hooked his knees over a rung and dropped down, torso swinging, shirt falling around his face as he skimmed his fingertips across the playmat. “This was bark-chips last time we were here.”

“I know,” James said, a frown in his voice. 

Sirius could hear a strange level of annoyance under it, a special edge his voice only held when they discussed Regulus. It amused him no end and he waited for a long, slow moment, letting James bristle, before he added, “Did I tell you Reg gave his notice?”

“No!” James yelped, and ran towards him. Sirius pressed his palms to the ground and slithered down, landing in a flump, laughing. James crashed against him, pinned him down. “When did that happen?”

“Hm… January, I think was.”

“What?” James screeched. “And you’re only telling me now?”

“Well, it’s another month until he finishes up. So consider it a kindness that I’ve not dangled that info in front of you sooner.”

“Huh,” James said, forcibly restraining himself. “So. Is he uh, gonna come home then? Back to the farm?”

Sirius drew a deep breath. “Yeah, at least for a while. He’s been pretty vague about what he plans to do.”

James smiled idly. “It’ll be good to see him again.”

Taking pity on him, Sirius admitted, “He reckons he’s looking forward to coming home. Might’ve even mentioned you in passing.”

“Generous of him,” James said, but his successfully flippant tone did not fool Sirius. He locked his knowing gaze with James’ eyes and threw him a smug grin. “He doing okay?”

“Fuck knows,” Sirius said, stretching out languidly. Concern prickled the base of his neck, sending a chill washing through his blood. “He doesn’t say much anymore. About anything.”

All the nonsense disappeared from James’ face, replaced with something uncommonly serious and sympathetic. His grip lightened and he patted Sirius’ shoulder. “Maybe he’s coming home at the right time, then.”

Shrugging against the mat, Sirius didn’t answer. James got to his feet and reached for Sirius’ hand; he took it gladly.

They wandered back across the carpark and down the stairs onto the beach. Remus was barefoot and clambering with an unnerving nimbleness across the knobbly maroon rocks, jeans folded up to his knees and revealing unexpectedly attractive legs. Sirius tore his eyes away and followed James in the opposite direction.

Once they were past the rocks, they stripped down to bare feet and wandered into the lapping tide. The beach was mostly empty, the sun was perfectly warm and the water was blissfully tepid. They wandered along in silence, just enjoying the elements at peace with each other under the spotless azure sky - and then there was a wet-sounding splat and James lurched off balance.

They both turned and Sirius gaped in astonishment to find Remus running effortlessly through the firm-packed damp sand. In his hand was a tangle of seaweed. He launched it at James who screamed and ducked, laughing.

Lurching back, Sirius watched in utter amazement as Remus tackled James. They spiralled together, a spray of fine white sand billowing into the autumn air and then Remus sprinted on again, crying out as James grabbed up the clump of seaweed and pelted it at him.

In the space of an eyeblink, they were hurtling along the beach together, attacking one another with whatever flotsam they came across. Sirius watched in total bemusement until Remus yelled over to him, “C’mon, Boss!” 

He didn’t much care for being called ‘boss’ - but there was something about the way it sounded in Remus’ mouth that Sirius could not fully object to. So he grinned and joined them, racing with some difficulty across the blessedly empty beach.

The chase didn’t end until James hurtled himself at Remus and knocked him down. He splayed across the sand laughing too hard to properly breathe while James sat on his knees. Sirius dropped down beside them as Remus sat up, wrapping his arms around James’ waist in a quick hug, face pressing into his neck. Just as abruptly he shoved James backwards, clapped a hand to Sirius’ shoulder and scrambled to his feet before walking back towards the carpark.

More confused than ever, Sirius stared after him. He cast a curious glance at James, who was raking his fingers through the sand. “See? Moony’s heaps of fun,” he beamed, flicking the grains about randomly.

“But where’s he going now?” Sirius snapped.

James shrugged. “You’re far too concerned about what he’s up to. Why can’t you just enjoy yourself?”

“Fuck off,” Sirius said with a touch more irritability than the situation called for. He rolled his shoulders out and sighed, taking a moment to enjoy the warm stroke of the afternoon sun. “I should put more sunscreen on.”

“Yeah, good idea,” James agreed.

They wandered back up the beach as well, slogging their way slowly through the deep sand, going up the achingly steep ramp to avoid the rocks. Sirius hoisted himself onto the boot of James’ car, ignoring his squinting frown of disapproval. He glanced around and spotted Remus striding towards them from the shop.

“Ice cream!” James yelled, following Sirius’ gaze. “Oh Moony, you perfect critter!”

Remus flashed him a smile and shoved a Magnum  _ Ego _ into his hand then turned to Sirius with an apologetic smile. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so…” He held out an ice cream.

Tearing his own bar open, James glanced over. He grinned. “Vanilla seems very appropriate Moony, well done.”

“Classic,” Sirius corrected, gracing Remus with his most charming smile. “No worries, thanks mate.”

“You’re welcome,” Remus murmured. He stepped onto the Commodore’s towbar, levered himself up beside Sirius. He pulled his feet up onto the boot - lean and bony, they were speckled with bleached sand. His toenails were painted black.

Sirius’ sank his teeth into his ice cream with a satisfying  _ crack _ and wondered what other secrets Remus was hiding.

Tattoos it transpired, when they changed into boardies and plunged into the ocean shortly after. Bare-chested, Remus was lean and muscly and looked rather better wet than Sirius figured he should be noticing. But his eyes kept pulling back to the ridge of naked abdominal muscles, well-defined from over a decade of shearing and other farm duties. His hair draped and clung across his face and neck, and Sirius thought he caught James watching them so deflected his interest by splashing him directly in the face.

They stayed in the water until Sirius’ lips burned from the salt and the tide turned, rolling back towards the beach in a sway of bouncing waves, clear as glass between the breaking froth. Then they ordered fish and chips - wrapped separately so James could share - and sat on the lawn, chatting and laughing as they let the day’s heat dry them off. The afternoon breeze was icy on Sirius’ damp skin.

There was yet another three weeks of daylight savings so the day was still bright despite the late hour when, exhausted, they all agreed it was home time. James yawned widely and Remus smirked, putting his hand out. “I’ll drive,” he offered.

“Cheers,” James said, tossing him the keys. 

He climbed into the backseat. When Sirius started to protest, Remus leaned into his space and whispered, “He’ll be asleep before we hit Pasky.” They both clambered into the car and Remus turned the engine over then began to fiddle with the radio controls, murmuring in a sing-song voice, “I’m driving so I get to pick the station.”

“Not your fucking stupid music, Moony,” James snapped from the backseat, leaning forwards. Sirius slapped his interfering arm back, enjoying denying him control. 

Remus hummed happily, ignoring them as he muddled through the tuning. “Ah!” he cried, sarcastic mischief filling his tone. “Well, whatta ya know - Triple J is the only station that works up here!”

“I hate you,” James grumbled, sitting back. “Whatever, then. Not too loud.”

Remus flapped a scornful hand at him and threw the car into reverse.

Sure enough, Remus was right - James was asleep before they reached the Cunliffe intersection, a light, rasping snore breathing itself through his parted lips.

“How did you guess that?” Sirius asked, winding his own seat back a little and resting into the cushioned leather.

Remus shrugged. “He always falls asleep in cars. Dunno how he manages it, myself. But that’s why I offered to drive, only seems fair, right?”

“Right,” Sirius echoed, only vaguely aware of what he was agreeing to. 

It seemed Remus’ fondness for silences did not apply when in the car. While he appeared little bothered with making conversation, he instead sang along to the radio. Unselfconscious, he murmured lyrics, sometimes knowing all the words to songs Sirius had never even heard of: ‘ _ That’s pretty weird, right, that’s pretty strange. But have you ever seen a jellyfish, now that shit’s crazy… _ ’

“What the fuck is this radio station?” he asked, glancing across at Remus.

“Fuckin’ genius, isn’it?” Remus grinned. “I love that they don’t censor. D’you know how annoying it is when they blank words out all the time? I lose my place.”

“I don’t listen to the radio much,” Sirius confessed. “And when I do, it’s AM.”

“Oh, you loser,” Remus flashed him a brilliant grin to take the sting out of the words, showing it was intended as jest. “Farm reports, huh?”

Sirius shrugged. “Sometimes, yeah. Or whatever random current affair is going on that the mainstream media doesn’t want us to know about.”

Remus threw him another quick glance, and this one was impressed. “Not just a pretty face huh, Boss?”

“Flattery’s not a part of your job description, mate.”

“Just as well,” Remus mumbled, voice turning vague as he concentrated on maneuvering across the Copper Coast Highway. “I’m not good at compliments. Giving ‘em or taking ‘em.”

Sirius eyed him, not even slightly surprised. Behind their chatter the radio crooned, ‘ _ Don’t you know, don’t you kno-ow… _ ’ and before Sirius could think of an answer Remus spoke again, smiling. “Oh, I love this song.” He tapped the steering wheel volume control and began to sing along, “ _ Between you and I… _ ”

Sirius watched him, ignoring the deep glow of the sun sinking on the horizon, the speeding sweep of woodland as they were swallowed into the dry Hummocks landscape. Something warm quivered and settled in his chest, snatching his breath for a moment. 

Sirius snapped his gaze away, swallowing hard.

“ _ You know there’ll never be a lonely day, if it’s you and I… _ ” Remus’ voice was warm and sweet, a perfect balm for the end of a long day.

Sirius shut his eyes and tipped his head back, focusing for a moment on the sated fatigue permeating his muscles, the calm in his brain, breathing deeply until his heartbeat settled again. He’d caught the sun, that was all. It had to be all. 

“You gonna have a nap, too?” Remus’ question crept into his consciousness and Sirius’ eyes flicked open. “I don’t mind, go ahead.”

“Nah,” Sirius said, glad when his voice came out perfectly even. “I’ve never been one for sleeping in a car.”

“Mm,” Remus murmured. “Fuckin’ tired though, yeah? It’s a totally different thing to how ya feel at the end of a day’s work. Pretty great day, though.”

“Yeah, I enjoyed it. Good to have a beach day before the weather turns.” He eyed Remus again, lingering on the cut of his jaw, the turn of his mouth as he continued to sing softly. “We gotta lot to do tomorrow though, to make up for it,” he said, steeling his tone.

Remus twitched a flippant shoulder. “She’ll be right. What time?”

“I dunno, early. What’s tomorrow, Thursday…”

“I’ll be up with the birds,” Remus said. “I was gonna run a trough-check anyway. Make sure the floats are clear.”

“Right, well. Just come along to the house when you’re done and we’ll go from there, then.”

“Too easy,” Remus agreed and went back to his songs, retuning the radio when they drifted from one region to another. The space between them yawned silent and Sirius stretched out, shutting his eyes again. He didn’t sleep, but he gave himself over to idle thoughts and daydreams. 

They arrived at James’ cottage and switched cars and then Sirius dropped Remus home, graciously offering him control of the radio for the stint through Mintaro. 

He drove slowly along the adjoining backroad to his own farmhouse, watching for kangaroos. Grateful to finally get home, Sirius immediately sought a shower to slough away the sand and salt and sweat of the day. 

An idle thought that Remus might be doing the same sent flashes of white light bursting inside his brain. 

That thought … that would not do.

Sirius slipped one hand between his legs, but put Remus firmly out of mind.


	4. April

April 

**_Get fucked, not happening_ **

**You have toooooo! It’s a THING**

**_I don’t HAVE to anything. And it’s not MY thing so no_ **

**I hate when your like this**

**_Deal with it i’m not changing my mind_ **

**Explain your stubborness, ta**

**_I don’t wanna spend an evening with you and your posh whiteboy school mates_ **

**Watch your fuckn tongue.  
** **Anyway, your mates with em now too**

**_I WORK for him, we rnt mates_ **

**Do i need to make it a WORK thing then**

**_I said no  
_ ** **_You don’t need me to have fun with the rich boys  
_ ** **_I dont want to, okay?_ **

**... okay  
** **Let’s us catch up soon tho, yeah?**

**_before easter, i promise_ **

l-l

The Saturday after Regulus officially moved back into the Blackowie farmhouse, James was prickling with anticipation. He channelled it into his morning football match, kicking his best yet for the season, revelling in the chorus of car horns each time the ball flew between the posts.

He went home in good spirits and sang ‘Up There Cazaly’ in the shower as he sluiced off the grass stains.

Originally, he had wanted to go out for the evening, but Sirius had been preoccupied and subdued when they settled the plans and James was astute enough to know that Regulus was the one actually making it difficult. Instead, he settled for heading over to the farm for dinner.

The evening was fresh and clear, too windy to be a pleasant breeze but still a perfect respite after the lingering summer heat. James arrived to the welcoming nod of wild belladonna lillies and let himself in. 

The house was standing open, inviting the autumn brightness in and setting a few random candles to fluttering as James strode inside, boots clumping warmly on the hardwood floors. “Knock knock!” he called.

“Kitchen,” Sirius’ voice replied, muffled through several foot-thick stone walls. James clattered down the hallway and stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame. A glorious aroma curled in the air, twisting in a cloud of steam from the stove, where Sirius was engaged.

“Evening,” he grinned.

“Hey,” Sirius replied, jabbing a wooden spoon through his frying pan. He was handy in the kitchen, better at food preparation than James could ever be, which was a source of constant lamentation to his own mother. “Make yourself useful and set the table, would’ja?”

“Jesus, I’m your _guest_ ,” James grumbled teasingly and began to scoot around Sirius, grabbing things out of drawers and cupboards before cracking open the bottle of wine he’d brought with him. He slid into a chair just as Sirius turned away from the stove. “So, where is he?”

“Around,” Sirius shrugged. Then he crossed his arms, sighing down at the floor. He glanced at James through his loose hair, protective twists hanging over a guarded expression. “Just a heads up, he’s not himself, Prongs.”

Anxiety pounded into James’ bloodstream. He folded his arms on the table, leaned forwards. “Whatta you mean?”

Sirius shook his head ineffectually. “I dunno what it is. But he’s … different. Shut off. Edgy.”

“Has something happened?” Concern dampened James’ good mood, dragging his excitement down. Apprehension leapt into its place and gripped his chest.

“It musta done, but he’s not talking. I just wanted to warn you. But who knows, maybe he’ll be alright with you.”

James arched his fingers against the tabletop, scuffed his nails against the grain. “Why?”

“You lot’ve always had your own … bond,” Sirius said. There was a glint in his eye that James steadfastly ignored. “P’raps he’ll find you easier to … I dunno, open up to.”

“Right.”

“Well, maybe,” Sirius’ tone was not enthusiastic. He shrugged and turned back to the stove, lifting a pan.

“So what about you and Remus, then?” James asked.

“Yeah nah,” Sirius said, sounding instantly brighter. James stored the tone away to reference later. “Really well. He just knows what to do and does it.”

“Told’ja,” James smiled. “But I meant on a more … friends level.”

“Well, we get on,” Sirius said, a frown creeping back into his voice. “But _friendly_ isn’t the word I’d use.”

James eyed him carefully. “I asked him along tonight. Obviously he said no.”

“He coulda come,” Sirius said, glancing across as he began dishing up the meal. “I kinda wish he had, I haven’t introduced him to Reg yet. He’s so … determined to keep that professional distance though.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Remus,” James agreed.

“Kinda bugs me,” Sirius said. “With the seasonal staff I’m used to having a beer or whatever. Bit of rapport, you know? Him and me though, we see each other most days and I don’t even know his middle name.”

“It’s John,” James said idly. “So you like him then?”

“As an employee? Absolutely. As a mate … too early to say, I guess. Not what you want to hear, I’m sure,” Sirius said. His voice was measured, uncharacteristically deliberate word choices. 

“M’just curious,” James said, successfully flippant. “And I know how interesting you find him.”

“You tryin’ to say something?” Sirius barked, glancing across at him.

“Calm down, Padfoot,” James smirked in reply. “Just, last time I saw ya, you were kinda sorta preoccupied by him.”

“No I wasn’t,” Sirius spat. “I just didn’t understand him. I still don’t, but I’m over it ‘cause he knows his shit and that’s what counts. Fuckin’ drop it.”

“Yeah, alright,” James said, planting his elbows on the table with a dull clunk. He scrubbed both hands through his hair. 

“If you have fleas,” a cool voice greeted from the doorway, “then I’m not hugging you.”

Snapping around so fast his neck cricked, a warm grin stretched across James’ face and spread its heat into his blood, suffusing his body with a giddy flush. It made his voice throaty. “Welcome home, kid!”

“Cheers,” Regulus said, and despite his protestation, he crossed the room and James stood to catch his greeting hug. For the space of a single heartbeat their bodies brushed together and James didn’t dare breathe. Then Regulus stepped back and dropped himself into a chair across the table.

Slamming their plates down, Sirius joined them. “Prongs and I were just talking about Remus.”

“Oh right,” Regulus said, sounding bored. His eyes were fixed to his plate. “I s’pose I’ll meet him soon.”

“He’s top notch,” James said, stabbing his fork into his plate in a screech of enamel. “Best bloke ever.”

“I’m offended,” Sirius grumbled, but his eyes were smiling.

“You barely count as a _bloke_ ,” James teased. “Fuckin’ foreigner.”

“Shut ya mouth, Wogboy.”

“At least I was born here,” James grinned. He reached over and patted Sirius’ knuckles and got a lopsided smile in reply. But Regulus didn’t smile, just prodded vaguely at his meal, sightless eyes turned down. Sirius’ gaze turned meaningful. James changed tactics. “So then, Reg … what’re you thinking of doing now you’re a civilian?”

Regulus went very still for a moment. Without looking up he muttered, “Does it have to be decided already?”

“Fuck no,” James said, keeping his voice even. “Deciding things is so inflexible. Do what works for you.”

Regulus glanced up at him without moving, dark eyes unreadable. There was a long moment of cold silence and then Regulus shifted in his seat and said, “Well, what about you, then?"

The mood in the room was aching with a type of tension James had never known. He understood it without knowing how and forced a cheeriness over his concern. “What about me?” he said brightly. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Regulus eyed him a moment longer then dropped his gaze again. “You still seeing that Evans chick?”

“Oh.” James was surprised. “No, we broke up over a year ago. She’s still about the place though. I bumped into her at the Bentley a couple weeks ago.”

“I wondered,” Regulus said quietly. “Since she’s not here. You lot were inseparable.”

“For a time,” James said. Remembering didn’t hurt as much as he thought it should, not when Regulus was sitting across the table from him looking fragile and distant and somehow just not the same as the young, hale man in his memory. “Not anymore. What about you, Reg? Leaving any fly-girl behind?”

Regulus shook his head almost imperceptibly. “Nope.”

James waited for more that never came. He glanced sideways at Sirius who met his gaze with a worried squint.

“I’m still in the room,” Regulus said in a complete deadpan. He sniffed and forced some words out - and James knew he was forcing them. “I’m just tired, alright? Moving. S’hectic.”

“Sure,” James said with false lightness. He weighed the moment and decided not to press whatever it was Regulus was being distracted by. Instead, he changed the topic. “Bit tired myself. Football this morning.”

It worked; Regulus looked up at him again. “D’you win?”

“Um, of _course_ ,” James grinned. He snatched at the opening and began to highlight the game, delighting as Regulus slowly thawed and engaged with him while Sirius threw in the odd sarcastic remark and rolled his eyes.

“Crows are playing tonight,” Regulus offered once they’d finished eating. He glanced at Sirius, almost timid. “D’you mind if we put the game on, bro?”

“Go ahead,” Sirius said, annoyed reservation in his voice. “I suppose I can sit through a night of ripped men playing grab-arse with each other.”

“As if that’s not your ultimate wet-dream,” James said, bumping him with his shoulder as he jumped up to follow Regulus.

“I can think of better men than footballers,” Sirius said snidely, sweeping teasing eyes up and down James.

“You wish,” James grinned back. “But you couldn’t have me in school and you can’t have me now.”

“You’re the last man on earth I’d ever want to see naked. You’re all knobby knees and gristle.”

“Happily, most people disagree with your insane opinion. _When_ did you last get laid?”

“Country people aren’t gay, mate. We both know you’d never get a look-in if chicks did anything for me.”

James paused, looked at him. Beyond the doorway, he heard the telly come on, a distant cheer of static noise echoing through the speakers. “No jokes,” he said after a moment. “You okay? You lonely?”

Sirius shrugged, turning away from him and collecting their plates. He kept his back turned when he answered. “Maybe sometimes.”

“Hey,” James crossed over to him as Sirius yanked the dishwasher open and began to slot the dishes in. “I’m listening.”

Sirius looked at him through his hair. “I like it out here, you know. I like the space.”

“Yeah, I remember how much you hate being shut in,” James said. “Thought you were gonna go mad from those cupboard punishments at school.”

“Oh, the irony,” Sirius said sarcastically. “Thank god for underage drinking, huh? Don’t reckon I would’ve gotten through it sober.”

“They aren’t allowed to get away with that sort of stuff anymore, you know.”

“Yeah, that helps me so much,” Sirius slurred. “Anyway. I like it even more now I’m in charge. I like playing sheepdog and all that. But enjoying space is a different fucking thing to being drowned by it.”

“How long you been feeling like this?” James frowned and leaned against the counter, trying to catch Sirius’ hidden eyes.

He shrugged again. “It comes and goes. Don’t worry about it too much, I don’t.”

“There are other gay guys around, mate.” James peered at him, tempted to push Sirius’ hair back, but he neatly stepped away before James had the chance. “You can meet someone.”

There was a pause as Sirius picked up his wine glass and emptied it, drinking slowly. “I dunno,” he said at length. “Meeting someone is hard work. I don’t have the time for dating. You know how I feel about hook-ups. And now with Reg…”

“Is that what’s triggered it? Seeing him down got you down too?”

“Could be,” Sirius said, his voice turing more flippant. He began to walk away, heading for the lounge room. “I’m not too worried, it’ll pass.”

“Is it easier having Remus around at least?” James asked, falling into step behind him. “Someone to chat to and whatever?”

“I think he makes it worse, to be totally honest with ya,” Sirius said, rubbing a hand across the nape of his neck. “Nothing to put a guy in his place like being around someone who couldn’t care less.”

“Hey, if he didn’t like ya, you’d know about it,” James said reassuringly.

“Oh yeah?” Sirius glanced back at him briefly.

“Yeah. He’d be _painfully_ nice to you if he hated’ja. And he’d probably have taken off by now, too.”

Sirius barked a gentle laugh. “Maybe that’s the real reason he’s going back to Broken Hill at easter, then. P’raps he won’t come back.”

“He will,” James said, unconcerned. They stepped into the lounge room and Sirius gave him a firm look to state the conversation was over. James replied with a bracing smile and collapsed onto the old, comfortable couch to watch the football.

l-l

He was enjoying the last dregs of the day’s warmth, high on the sloping hill of the Olympus block when Remus arrived. He strode between the rows of vines with long, easy steps and settled beside James without a word, dropping back on his elbows with only a smile in greeting. 

“How are ya, mate?” James asked, following the play of the evening sky as it wafted in swirls of purple and gold and an astonishing, breathtaking pink. He watched it, let it calm his busy day.

“Pretty good,” Remus murmured, looking up as well. “You?”

“Not bad.”

There was a long silence as they simply sat together, no words needed. It was their place, filled with sacred memories: summery midnights with stolen cigarettes and wine pilfered from the Potter’s cellar; a hideaway where they could talk without fear of being overheard and share all the vast, life encompassing secrets of youth; a first kiss and then a few more firsts, clumsy fumbles that still graced the edges of James’ memory, scented with the crush of vine leaves and rich grape juice.

The silence lingered until the sun crept away behind the curving valleys and left a chill in its shadow.

“What d’you wanna do for tea?” James asked on sigh, rolling his head sideways and taking in Remus’ tired profile. “I thought we’d go into Clare.”

“Yeah, wherever,” Remus shrugged. “Whatta ya fancy?”

“Indii? Or d’you prefer a pub meal?”

“Nah, sounds good,” Remus agreed.

They stood and stretched. James swung an arm around Remus’ waist as they wandered down the hill. There was a question prickling away at his mind, burning at the back of his throat in his need to ask it … but now was not the right moment. He cleared his throat and gave Remus a playful knock with his shoulder and pasted a diversionary smile across his mouth.

He took a quick shower to sweep off the day’s dirt and then bundled Remus into his Commodore. There was no squabbling over the radio station; Remus hummed happily when James kicked the engine over and Triple M crooned at them in welcome, ‘ _Throw down your guns… don’t be so reckless_ ,’ and began to sing along.

The short drive was otherwise quiet, James admiring the bright flags of the deciduous trees once they reached Main North Road: juicy orange and vibrant yellow and deep, aching reds. 

“I forgot how beautiful it is here in autumn,” Remus said softly, interrupting his sweet mumbled singing.

“Can’t wait ‘til we get some _rain_ ,” James agreed. “And it all comes up so green.”

“Mm.” Remus nodded. “Much nicer than Broken Hill, anyway.”

“This is where you belong, cowboy. I keep tellin’ ya,” James said, glancing across at him. “Can’t believe you’re goin’ back there so soon.”

“I always went there for holidays when I lived here,” Remus said, his voice deceptively light. “Just like I came to you at the holidays while I lived there. I’ll be gone less than a week, you’ll fuckin’ survive.”

Taking a deep breath, James said, “Just, I miss you at the family things.”

“Well, I still have _some_ of my own family, Prongs. And whatever else he is, he’s still my dad. Okay?”

“Okay.” James knew better than to push the issue. He grimaced, hoping he hadn’t put Remus in a bad mood. He needed him relaxed and amiable.

They parked opposite the restaurant and wandered across the road, stopping on the median strip as lines of late traffic streaked past. It was cosy inside Indii, and James charmed their waiter into getting a table by the window. He was touched when Remus ordered vegetarian, and unimpressed when he shrugged it off with an unconcerned, “Well, we can share.”

James was even _less_ impressed when Remus ordered wine. It wasn’t the fact that he ordered the wrong accompaniment, but that he ordered from a rival vineyard. Planting his elbows on the table, he canted aggressively towards Remus and growled incredulously, “ _Mad Bastard_ over _Terrapotter_?”

“Oh,” Remus said, simple mischief glittering in his smile. “I thought they were the same thing.”

James failed to keep a grin off his face. He reached over and ruffled Remus’ curls. “You’re a bugger,” he said fondly. Remus rolled his eyes, smiling.

They chatted as they waited, James venting his delight that the picking season was over after the frustration caused by the team of seasonal workers he’d had to endure.

“Fuckin’ city hipsters, man!” he exclaimed to Remus’ kind, indulgent smirk. “They were _so fussy_ about _everything_! It’s not rocket science: pick the the fucking grapes! That’s it! But no, they were all delicate and gentle and took for-fucking-ever. Goddamn city folks, right?”

“Right,” Remus agreed. “They’ve got no idea.”

“No idea,” James echoed, nodding. “At least they’re all gone now.”

“Yeah, except for fuckin’ tourists,” Remus said wryly. “Get rid of the casuals just in time for easter and Gourmet.”

James flapped an irritated hand vaguely through the air. “Mama and Papa will take care of Gourmet, I’ll just help on the cellar door.”

“Well, that’ll be busy enough,” Remus said, swigging his wine. “We’ll do something on the Monday if you like. If we have the time, I mean.”

“We’ll _make_ the time,” James said. He eyed Remus critically. “I’ll get Sirius to give you the day off. In fact, we’ll all do something … I reckon Reg needs some happy fun times too.”

“I don’t need happy fun times,” Remus said, bemusement creasing his mouth. “Though another day off does sound nice.”

“We’ll plan something when we get a bit closer,” James promised, pulling himself away from the table as their food arrived.

It was when they were lingering over the last few forkfuls, neither really sure if they had the space to finish the meal, that James watched Remus swallow the last of his cab sav and decided it was just about the best chance he was going to get.

“So, Moony,” he began slowly, throwing Remus a surreptitious glance. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh yes?” Remus asked, clunking his glass down on the table and glancing up at James. His expression was smooth and open, an alcohol flush tinging the slope of his cheek. 

“I wanna talk about the crush you have on Sirius.”

As he expected, Remus’ expression immediately closed off. Mouth setting hard, he peered at James through narrowed eyes, triggering a twinge of guilt. “There’s no crush,” Remus said tightly, flicking his gaze away.

Shoving a hand through his hair, James ignored the tension and ploughed on. “Oh please. I’ve known you since we were four years old. D’you think I don’t know your tells by now?”

Remus stared at him in complete silence, eyes guarded. His voice was very low when he finally asked, “He’s complained, has he?”

“No,” James said, settling back on the bench, trying to make himself more inviting. “But he told me how you are with him and I know what it means.”

“It’s not going to go anywhere,” Remus said. His voice went distant, eyes dropping, obvious attempts to disengage. “So if that’s what you’re saying, just stop.”

“Why?” James asked, genuinely perplexed. He tried hard to keep his confusion from filling his tone with asperity. Judging by the snarling glance Remus threw him, he largely failed.

“Tell me something,” Remus said abruptly. “Has Sirius ever given you any idea at all that he might be interested?”

“Well, he…” James paused, scraping through his memory and coming up cringingly blank. Sirius was as negligible as Remus when it came to confirming their attraction and the fact was, James was largely working on instinct and speculation.

Remus did not wait for his reply before snapping, “ _No_ , he hasn’t. Because if he had, you’d’ve nagged me about this already.” Then his face crumpled, despair colouring his eyes. “I thought we were getting on alright. Jesus-fuck.”

Balking at the unexpected cant to the conversation, James jabbed his fingertips against Remus’ arm. “Look, he didn’t complain to me! He’s not unhappy with you, alright?”

After a moment, Remus said darkly, “Alright.”

“If you don’t want anything with him then I’m not gonna push you, okay? Just, he said to me how you were standoffish and I just … wondered if there were more to it.”

“There isn’t,” Remus said, meeting his eyes squarely. His jaw was tight, voice hard, and James knew beyond a doubt that he was lying. All the same, he let it go.

“Will you tell me something, though?” he asked later that night, after they’d gone to Pancho’s for gelato and had driven back along the pitch-dark country roads to the smooth hum of Remus singing along to ‘Beds Are Burning’. James parked the car in his driveway and glanced across at Remus through the sickly gloom of the overhead light.

“Yeah, mate?”

“Why’re you so dead-against blokes now?” James waited, heart shuddering against his ribs as he waited for Remus’ reaction.

Remus gave him a tired, considering look. After a long moment, he said, “It’s all so simple to you, isn’t it? You like someone, you go for it, ‘cause you just don’t give a fuck about any of the rest of it. It’s never been that straightforward for me.”

James squinted at him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes.” Unclipping his seatbelt, Remus reached for the door handle. “I did.”


	5. May

May

The first hour was fine. The second one began to bore despite the distraction of his excellent playlist. By the third hour, Remus was definitely beginning to glaze.

Knowing he would regret it when he began to drive again, Remus stopped at Olary to rest his eyes and let the dogs off. He had spent the morning on the farm and it had already been a long day. 

Another one-hundred-and-twenty kilometres. Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes. If he were given to naps, he’d consider taking one. Instead, he snapped leads on the dogs and took them for a stroll around the barren scrub stretching beyond the soft shoulders of the Barrier Highway. Dust clung to his boots, the air light and warm, foliage crunching as the dogs bounced through the drought-stricken brush, cracking the dry branches as they roughed across them.

There were caravans parked along the stretch of road beside the rest area. Noticing without meaning to, Remus saw a middle-aged couple watching him suspiciously as he walked back towards his Ranger. A shiver of unease rippled down his spine and he swallowed sadly before bundling the dogs into the back of the cab and hitting the road again.

As he’d expected, the last hour and a half was exceedingly painful. After fifteen minutes his eyes burned and his brain begged for another respite. Remus kept himself focused, scoping the landscape for goats and emus while singing along to ineffectually upbeat music. ‘ _ Darkest at day, boy, or brightest at night… _ ’

He counted the kilometres off in songs, endless empty stretches of tarmac and outback until finally the hills fractured apart and revealed the sea of city features sprawled across the red earth and mineral mines.

Dodging a billy goat that deigned only to walk onto the west-bound side of the road, Remus thanked all the deities he didn’t believe in that the drive was nearly over. He wove through the traffic - frantic, late-night shoppers crowding the streets in a final bid to get to the stores before Good Friday closures; work rush hour as people headed home; teenagers enjoying freedom and hooning around.

He’d made good time. Remus lazily meandered through the familiar streets and reached the dodgy neighbourhood where his father lived just as his radio sang, ‘ _ We’re at your daddy’s home but he’s not listening _ .’

“Huh,” Remus muttered, half to himself and half to his dogs. He turned into the narrow alley behind the row of old miner’s cottages and crept along at walking speed. “Yep, that sounds about right.”

Still, his dad was home and waiting in the shed for him, garage door rolled up in welcome.

“Remo!” Lyall cried, jumping up and throwing his arms wide as Remus climbed out of his ute. “Good ta see ya, mate! D’ja bring the girls?”

“Hi Dad.” He smiled and stepped into his father’s masculine, back-slapping embrace that lasted all of a single heartbeat, then turned to let the dogs out. “Here they are, say hello to grandad.”

“Dogalogs!” Lyall bellowed, bending to greet them and nearly tipping his Super Dry all over Crow’s back. He glanced up as Remus lugged his weekend tote out of the tray, a frown lining his weather-beaten brow. “Not staying long then?”

“I told you, just the weekend,” Remus said mildly. “I’m on a contract.”

“Hm, yeah sure. C’mon inside, Bundy’s on ice for ya.”

They left the backdoor ajar for the dogs and Remus followed his dad into the lounge room. He was torn between wanting to rest and wanting to exercise his cramped muscles. At Lyall’s insistence, rest won out. He all but shoved Remus into a recliner, pushed a can of premixed rum into his hand and then dropped onto the couch beside him, using his teeth to rip open the bag of Fruchocs Remus had brought for him.

They began with the acceptable small-talk - how was the drive, how was work, similar other banalities, while Remus waited for the inevitable dissection of his life choices. Finishing his drink, he got up to feed the dogs and grab another can from the fridge. 

“And how’s your poncy Wog friend, then?” Lyall asked when he returned.

Remus fiddled with the slant of his chair, stretching out as he bit down the tide of furious words that flooded over his tongue. “His name is  _ James _ , Dad,” he said in a tight, pointed tone. “You don’t have to be insulting.”

“Oh,” Lyall said dismissively. “Stopped being poncy, has he?”

“ _ Dad _ ,” Remus snapped, glaring at him.

“I’m just sayin’, you were better off when you were here. He’s a bad influence on ya.”

Biting his tongue, Remus stayed silent and tried to claw his temper under control.

Lyall eyed him, unconcerned about him being upset. Remus had expected it, but he was irate all the same. “You seeing someone then?”

“No,” Remus said through gritted teeth.

“Or you are and you don’t want to tell me,” Lyall said astutely.

“I’m not, okay?” Remus struggled to keep his tone even. His blood began to race with white fire, screaming through his veins, pounding against his eardrums. Skin flushed hot, he swallowed, throat swollen tight. “There’s no one. I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Right-o,” Lyall said, voice flippant but eyes critical. “Don’t be long, there’s a new episode of Australia Attempts to Kill Todd Sampson on tonight.”

Despite himself, Remus chuckled. He put his unopened drink down and wandered towards the bathroom, leaving his father sprawled across the couch with the dogs tucked around him. It  _ was  _ a nice sight, and Remus tried to be grateful for some family time despite how annoyed he already felt.

But his mind was not so easily placated, and when Remus stepped under the water he was not only angry at his father but at himself for allowing the opinions to upset him, for allowing them so much influence over his life.

He shoved his hands through his hair, sweeping in back in a sheet of hot water. Drops pattered over his shoulders, drizzled down his back and soothed his frazzled nerves, but the sting of his own words niggled at the corners of his mind. Guilt stung him like venom, creeping painfully across his skin as he stood aimlessly beneath the water, breathing in the steam congesting the poky room.

Because there was someone, and it was Sirius … dismissing Sirius as  _ no one _ was far and away one of the biggest lies Remus had ever told himself. His father believed it, and that was something … but Remus, so used to wearing his collection of masks, could not convince himself with that one.

Trying not to be attracted to Sirius had been a losing battle from the start, yet after five minutes with his father, Remus’ resolve was nonetheless restored.

But he was naked and in the shower, and Sirius was flashing across his memory like lightning, sparking desire inside him like a bushfire. Funny, intelligent and irritable, Sirius had forearms that Remus longed to have wrapped around his waist. He had plush lips that curved the wrong way around his vowels and begged to be bitten. He had piercing eyes that seemed to see right into Remus’ very soul, that studied him when they worked together and sent quivers up his spine.

He was dying to put their bodies together and revel in the contrast of his brown skin against Sirius’ pallor.

Thinking about Sirius while he was in the shower was dangerous. But there was more than four hundred kilometres between them … Remus chewed on his fingertip for one long, contemplative moment and then decided,  _ fuck it _ . Slowly, he dragged his hand down his chest, over his belly and curled it around his cock.

The breath left his body in a rush of tension, the tightness in his muscles easing in direct correlation to the pressure of his grip. Remus’ mind honed in on images of Sirius … long limbs and smooth skin, flushed and needy … how those eyes might look if they were glancing up at him, how his mouth might curve if it was around Remus’ erection, instead of his own fingers. 

A soft gasp parted his lips. Remus braced his forearm against the shower tiles and rested his forehead against it, surrendering entirely. His mind cast sideways, fractured elements of old fantasies flittering behind his eyelids, every one of them wearing Sirius’ face. 

Thrusting into his fist, Remus let the pull of desire fill him with golden pleasure and dived 

after it, not daring to take his time. White stars burst across his vision when he came.

Sagging against the wall, Remus panted his breath back under control and vaguely shook his fingers out under the water. “Ugh,” he sighed. “I’ve gotta stop doing this.”

l-l

When he’d lived with his father, Remus had gotten used to the vague comments and casual slurs. They’d struck him like the nick of a razor, and he blotted over them just as efficiently. After a little more than three months away from it, and with James a violently tangible force in his life again, it was much harder to tolerate.

He took the dogs for walks and pretended not to notice when people crossed the street at his approach. Lyall dragged him to his local, and at least there Remus was well remembered, welcomed by the bar staff and his father’s mates. Unfortunately, his ex-boyfriend was also there. Despite ignoring each other entirely, Remus felt familiar weighted eyes following him, and Lyall watched him sternly.

They closed the pub and got locked in. Remus gratefully accepted a cigarette from a man he had worked with on the merino stud, and was happier still when they finally staggered into the night time and stumbled home.

Lyall slung his arm around Remus’ shoulders. “You’re a good kid, Remo,” he slurred. “How about seein’ that fuckin’ fruitcake though, eh?”

“What’re the odds,” Remus agreed in a thin rasp. It was where they’d met, two weeks after he’d settled in. At the time, all he had really wanted was a balm to his grief. It had all ended up so terribly bitter, thanks to Lyall.

“That waitress was givin’ you the eye though.”

“I didn’t notice,” Remus said, enduring his father’s embrace.

“She was a looker. I shoulda pushed harder. Maybe a chick is what you need to get you back here.”

Wearily, Remus pinched his nose and whined, “ _ Dad _ … just stop.”

It was a relief when Monday rolled around and he headed back south. There was a lingering farewell as Lyall roughed the dogs and hugged Remus uncomfortably tight. “I love ya, kiddo. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Love you too, Dad,” Remus mumbled, smiling goodbye before climbing into the ute and carefully manouevring into the alleyway.

He had to stop and get fuel, and it gave him the space to fiddle his conflicted emotions into some sort of equilibrium before he was trapped with them on the empty highway. Pre-stocked with Farmers Union for the drive, Remus turned his phone off incase James was tempted to send him on errands again, and finally got himself on the road.

The day was warm and fresh despite the rushing wind. Remus put the windows down and the radio up. 

‘ _ We share some history this town and I… _ ’

Remus huffed a gentle appreciation through his nostrils and wriggled down in his seat, setting the cruise control as he hit the highway. It was late enough in the morning that the usual cavalcade of wild animals was thankfully scarce.

When he had left Broken Hill in January, it had been with mixed feelings: choked with guilt, idle unhappiness, despairing loneliness. But aside from James, he’d had no reason to go back. The promise of work had been the incentive he needed.

‘ _ There’s no change, there’s no pace. Everything within its place. _ ’

This time, Remus was leaving gratefully. Lyall’s homophobic barbs were caught under his skin and he felt more conflicted than ever about Sirius, but Remus could not deny that he was happier in the Valley than he was in the outback.

l-l

Gourmet weekend passed by without Remus even noticing. He and Sirius were busy rotating the flocks and sowing the spring crop. Sirius had taken his suggestions into consideration and Remus was quietly confident that - weather permitting - they would return a bumper harvest.

The plan for a day off was postponed when a decent rain came down, forcing Remus to spend extensive time in the tractor instead. 

Sometimes Regulus helped, especially with stock transfers. He was withdrawn to the point of sullenness, and appeared to have a new earring every time Remus saw him. Sirius gave up trying to spark conversations with either of them and they either worked in silence, or to the dull hum of Sirius muttering to himself.

Finally, near the end of the month, the fates aligned for the three of them to meet James for a day of ‘happy fun times’.

None of them had any idea what they felt like doing. Remus quietly suspected they all just wanted to stay home. In the end, James declared that was the very reason they had to get out and decided they were going to the cinema.

“What’s on?” Remus asked when James picked him up. Conscious that this was the first social visit with Sirius he had known about before hand, he had chosen to wear a shirt and jeans, things reminiscent of his workwear, in the hope that it would help keep the professional barrier in place.

“No idea, we’ll choose when we get there,” James said brightly, leaning across the console and kissing him on the cheek in greeting. “So, how was Broken Hill?”

Remus groaned, then mumbled, “It was okay.”

“Glad to be back?”

“Here or there?”

James shrugged. “Either.”

Sighing, Remus slouched down in his seat and stretched out. “I guess. It was good to see Dad, but yeah. I was glad to come home again.”

He noticed James cast a careful sideways glance at him. “Home, huh?”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” Remus grumbled. “My people are nomadic, I can quite happily find somewhere else to be home.”

“Liar,” James said, grinning. “But okay.”

They drove to the  _ Blackowie  _ homestead and found Sirius waiting on the verandah. He slid into the backseat of James’ car and announced that Regulus had decided not to join them, whereupon James killed the engine, stormed into the house and returned ten minutes later with an irritable looking Regulus in tow.

Remus watched with mild amusement, glad to see someone else on the end of James’ well-meant interference. He had no doubt James was right about Regulus needing the distraction more than any of them.

James zipped the car down Min Man Road like a rally driver, before scooting south onto the Barrier Highway. Sirius and James chatted incessantly; Remus zoned them out, fiddling the radio just loud enough to hear around their voices. 

It took an hour just to get to the Gawler bypass, and then James steered them down the Northern Expressway towards Angle Vale.

“Ah, I think you forgot to exit, mate,” Sirius interrupted himself and jabbed his fingers into James’ shoulder.

“Bunnings first,” James said idly.

“What for?”

“There’s always something,” James grinned.

Regulus stayed in the car while the rest of them went into the store, and Remus wondered a little more at whatever it was that drove his moods.

“Is it too hot to buy plants?” Sirius mused, mainly to himself, then strode off towards the garden section without waiting for an answer. 

Remus plodded along after James, chatting lightly as he collected what he needed, and then they wandered after Sirius. “He’ll be hours if we leave him,” James said. “He’s like you in a bookshop.”

“So, like you at the football then,” Remus replied with a smile. 

“Right,” James agreed amicably.

Once they’d collected Sirius and gone through the checkouts, James took the Smithfield backroads to Elizabeth and parked around the cinema side of the centre, along the edge where there were still some trees.

Regulus kept his eyes downcast as they walked. In a sudden flash, Remus understood why he was in such a turbulent state, realisation coming to him as they wandered past the Schnithouse and he spotted a pair of RAAF officers sitting under the canopy. Glancing across at Regulus, Remus saw a pink flush burning along the edge of his jaw and knew that he didn’t want to be so close to whatever it was he was attempting to leave behind.

They got lunch at the food court before buying their movie tickets. Sirius nudged so close to Remus it made his blood run cold. Hyper-aware of their unexpected proximity, he resisted the urge to move away, even when Sirius’ breath ghosted over his skin. He whispered, “Wanna super annoy James and get Macca’s?”

Despite himself, a grin split Remus’ face. “Fuck yeah.”

It worked so well that James refused to sit with them. He glowered, hooked an arm around a compliant Regulus, and stomped towards Soul Origin.

When Sirius laughed Remus joined in, passing a shy glance across Sirius’ beaming features. Warm happiness spread through his chest. It was supremely irritating.

It was worse when they sat together, deliberately inside James’ eyeline, and Sirius smiled at him, warm and wide and genuine. “This is nice. You know, we could hang out more at home.”

“Surely you see enough of me as it is,” Remus demurred, voice perfectly even.

Sirius frowned. “Yeah, but this is different. It’s nice, ya know. At the end of the day. Just to have someone t’have a beer with.”

“True,” Remus said, plucking at his fries and elegantly pushing them into his mouth. He avoided Sirius’ eyes as he chewed. “But I work for you and that complicates it.”

“It doesn’t  _ have _ to.” Sirius watched him closely, eyes sharp. Then he sighed and sipped his Coke. “Never mind. The offer is always there if you fancy it.”

“Thanks,” Remus murmured. He glanced up at Sirius through his curls and wished he could say yes. 


	6. June

June

“This is how Alphard always did things,” Sirius snapped one morning. It was far too early and his brain was prickling with stress. He didn’t quite know why he was venting it at Remus, except that Remus was there and didn’t seem to care about his tempers.

“It’s old school,” Remus said flippantly, making some notes on his Spirax. “Impractical. Inefficient. Wasteful, even. This is better.”

Remus was right of course, but Sirius took a perverse thrill in provoking him - or at least, in the attempt to provoke him. No matter what he tried, Remus remained smooth and steadfast. It was calming when he needed it and Sirius knew he was lucky; not too many staff would’ve let him get away with his behaviour. Alphard certainly never had, but of course, that had been a different dynamic.

His uncle had come home at easter, and they had gone to Good Friday mass with the Potters at St. Aloysius like every year. Afterwards, they’d gone back to their sprawling, expensive house where Sirius had enjoyed watching James argue with his parents about having fish for lunch.

Regulus had readily joined them, but his general demeanour was increasingly withdrawn. Even Alphard had attempted to crack through the invisible casing he held so tightly wrapped around himself with no success.

Sirius simply didn’t know how to reach him. Instead, ever a light sleeper, his nights were interrupted listening to Regulus tramp restlessly about the house. Sometimes he caught snatches of angry mutterings, sometimes primal noises of despair. The times he got up to check, Regulus immediately retreated to his room until Sirius went back to bed.

He was fairly sure Regulus was texting James often. There was a certain softness around the pain in his eyes whenever he bent over his phone, anyway. It reminded Sirius of the way they’d been at school, when James would sneak into their room after curfew. There was a light that only sputtered to life when their eyes met, and it had gone out the day Regulus enrolled in the Air Force.

Ten years later, Sirius saw it flickering alive again.

As for himself, he tried very hard not to look at Remus when they worked together and generally failed. He simply was not immune to how good those legs looked in a pair of well-worn Wranglers.

Thankfully, Remus was oblivious to his attention. Unfortunately, that only made staring at him more inviting.

Sometimes Sirius got a bit too distracted, his mind wandering to a memory of Remus at the beach, wet and inked and mischievous. He wanted to see more of that Remus. Sirius had a sinking feeling that maybe that light was another one just for James, something that only existed between people who’d known each other almost as long as they’d known themselves.

And sometimes, despite his every effort, Remus crept into Sirius’ fantasies, even displacing Stephen Peacocke. He sort of didn’t mind because it was certainly an incredibly pleasant way to get off - depending on how far he let his mind wander, it was possibly the best wanking material he’d ever had - but then again, Remus was right there, every day. Not big on such things at the best of time, Sirius just couldn’t help but wonder if fantasising about his straight farm assistant was maybe one boundary breach too far.

On the other hand, perhaps Remus shouldn’t suck on the end of his pen while lost in thought.

Maybe it was just as well Remus kept refusing to spend social time with him. He might implode if he saw those solemn lips wrapped around the neck of a Tooheys bottle. 

That thought alone was enough to set Sirius’ mind dragging through sordid thoughts again … he’d give into them when he was alone.

l-l

The nights had gotten ridiculously cold. Sirius had pushed their starting times back to accommodate the light frosts and spent his free time preparing his winter planting. Remus might have a broader knowledge of crop farming, but Sirius was very proud of his kitchen garden.

When James’ played football in Manoora or Mintaro he stopped in for a cuppa before heading home. It was good to see him regularly, and with the cooler weather making different demands on their time, they tried to get to the Bentley at least once a fortnight.

Occasionally, Sirius tried to talk to Regulus about what his plans were. He tended to disengage quite quickly and Sirius was left both confused and infuriated. 

Figuring he was unwittingly making things worse, Sirius stopped bothering him, but Regulus’ behaviour became increasingly difficult all the same.

On the last day of the month, he ran away.

Sirius had worked late into the afternoon and it was already dark when he parked his Patrol in the shed and stumbled into the house. He was tired and filthy and desperately wanted a hot shower.

Regulus was making a racket and Sirius paused outside his bedroom. The door was open; he glanced in and saw him pacing, white-knuckled fists wrapped tight in his hair. “Reg?”

“Leave me alone,” Regulus grumbled, his voice a raspy whisper. There was something dangerous in its low shadows. “Go away.”

“Um.” Sirius bit his lip and swallowed uncertainly. “Okay. I’m here though, if … if you need me.”

Regulus ignored him. When Sirius hesitantly moved away, he heard the door slam shut in his wake.

He went about his usual routine - shower, warm clothes, cook, watch  _ Neighbours _ . And then he heard Regulus again; frantic movements, heavy footfalls on the floorboards as he stormed out of his room, stampeded down the hallway and tore through the front door.

Sirius leapt up, but by the time he reached the door, left standing open to the frigid night, Regulus’ car was pealing down the gravel drive.

l-l

Sirius rapped restless fingers against Remus’ door, tapping an impatient foot as he waited for an answer. It came in a storm of sound - dogs barking, slapping footfalls on the floorboards, light and bouncy whistling.

The door swung open, and Sirius’ anxiety tripped over shock as he saw Remus.

His hair was hanging loose across his brow, smiling lips stained dark. He was wearing some soft-looking knit that looked insanely comfortable as well as effortlessly stylish. Sirius gaped; he had never seen Remus in anything but a shirt or hi-vis and the contrast startled him.

“He-ey,” Remus said, his voice low and cheery. “Boss. What’s up?”

“I…” Sirius’ brain couldn’t justify this vision of Remus with the stoic man he worked with, nor could he seem to recollect his scrambled thoughts. Remus watched him with an open, patient expression, expectant and curious and without a doubt, not sober.

“Something’s wrong,” Remus said when the pause stretched too long. “What is it?”

“My brother’s missing.” Sirius bit his lip and tipped his weight across his feet. 

Remus canted against the doorframe. “How long has he been gone?”

A ripple went through Sirius’ muscles, twitching his shoulders and arms and hands into vague, meaningless gestures. “Hours! And his phone is off, and it was like he was having some sort of fit when he left… I wanted to give him some space, but it’s getting late and I just  _ feel _ it, you know? Something’s really wrong!”

Remus’ face tightened as he blinked, clearly trying to sharpen his thinking. Quite calm, he said, “I can’t drive, but I can help you look.”

“I  _ have _ looked,” Sirius said, shaking an irritable hand through his hair. He stamped at the chill in his agitated feet. “All sorts of places. I don’t know where else to look.”

Head tipping sideways, Remus reached out and clapped a hand to his shoulder. “It’s okay. Hey, look at me. Eye-contact.” Startled, Sirius glanced up as Remus’ hand slid up his neck and tipped his chin up. He shivered, not only from the cold. With a quiet, unshakeable confidence, Remus met his eyes and murmured, “We’ll find him. I’ll give James a call.”

“No, don’t bother him,” Sirius snapped, but Remus had already fumbled his phone out and was jabbing at the screen with uncoordinated fingers. Triumph curved his tippled mouth as he pulled up James’ contact data and hit the call connect. Despite the lateness, it was answered quickly.

“Prongs, babe,” Remus murmured. “I’ve got Sirius here and he’s in a state ‘cause his mad goth brother’s run off. Mhm. M’not  _ drunk _ , jackass ... Knew I could count on you, dude. Let us know.”

He fumbled the phone again before slipping it back into the pocket of his bottoms - soft and warm looking pyjamas, Sirius suddenly noted. He instantly felt like a dick for interrupting Remus’ night, and mentally cringed as impatient words scoured across his tongue. “What’d Prongs reckon? Does he know where he’s gone?”

“Nope, but he’ll find him,” Remus said, all quiet confidence.

The flippancy burned in Sirius’ gut, barbing his words. “What makes  _ you  _ so sure?”

Remus shrugged, tipping his head the other way and resting it against the jamb. “They’re in love. People in love know things about each other. He’ll find him.”

Sirius’ jaw dropped. “Uh…”

Remus did not appear to notice. “D’you wanna come inside? Wait here until we hear something?” His voice was sweet and genuinely concerned.

“Ah, no,” Sirius stammered, stumbling back a step.

“Yeah, ‘course ya do,” Remus said, pushing himself up. He grabbed Sirius’ wrist and turned, pulling him inside. “You don’t wanna be alone when you’re all stressed out. S’fine.”

“I really think,” Sirius started, but Remus cut him off, turning and pressing his fingers gracelessly against Sirius’ mouth. He jerked backwards, but the imprint ghosted on his lips. “Uhm…”

“Half an hour,” Remus said confidently. “Give Jim-bo thirty minutes and I guarantee you he’ll have information. You know what he’s like when he sets his mind to something. And if you’re out gallivanting, you might not have phone service when he finds him.”

Sirius was not convinced, yet something about Remus’ demeanour was soothing and he was loathe to go away from it. “Alright,” he huffed at length and Remus nodded once, smiling happily that things were settled.

“Wine?” he offered, leading the way into the open-plan lounge. 

“Nah, I might need to drive yet,” Sirius said, shoving the door closed on the icy night time. 

“Half a glass then.” Remus beamed and traipsed towards the kitchenette. Humming blithely to himself, he clinked a glass out of the cupboard and tipped a careful amount of rich purple wine into it, before upending the remainder of the bottle into his own glass. “Already too late for me,” he said brightly as he walked back over.

Uncertain, Sirius took the glass and hovered until Remus’ expression turned bemused. He waved an arm towards the couch. “Well, sit down.” The dogs were lazing across the cushions and Remus scooted them out the way. “Down you get, mummy’s got company. I  _ know _ , I’m surprised  _ too _ ,” he cooed to them as they obediently hopped down. Flinging himself into one corner, Remus smiled up at Sirius expectantly.

Feeling awkward, he stepped across the room, sipping the wine just to give himself something to do. “Oh!” Sirius murmured, surprised. “This is good, what is it?”

Remus licked grinning lips and tapped the side of his nose. “ _ Taylors _ , Promised Land.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial hiss. “Don’t tell Prongs. He gets so annoyed when I don’t drink his wine. And he might have the best Pinot-everything, but for merlot? Can’t beat  _ Taylors _ .”

Sirius sank onto the opposite end of the couch, restless and edgy, but absolutely amazed. He glanced around the room; it was the first time he’d been inside since Remus had moved in and the man had definitely made it his own. There were books and CDs, and more than one warm, soft-looking thing thrown over the chair backs and end tables. There really was a guitar.

Following his gaze, Remus sighed. “I’m not a very good tenant, am I. Oh dear.”

Sirius’ eyes snapped back to Remus, who was pulling the cattle dog onto his lap. Baffled, he stared and struggled to comprehend what was happening. Fumbling for something,  _ anything _ , to say, Sirius finally muttered, “So, you’re aware that Prongs is into my brother then?”

Remus laughed, warm like smooth whiskey. “I think everyone is aware except for your brother.”

“Yeah, right,” Sirius said. He hid behind his glass and watched as Remus bent over the dog’s head, fingers thrust into her coat, rubbing circles into her wither. The dog wriggled under his touch and Sirius wondered how it would feel to have Remus do the same to him, to have those hands in his hair, circling against his scalp…

“You okay?” Remus asked softly, looking up at him sideways, his cheek against the dog’s fur.

“Not fantastically,” Sirius said brusquely. 

Remus reached over and patted his knee, eyes dark with sleepy compassion. “S’gonna be okay. It really is.”

Sirius’ heart rushed with a flush of warm emotion, suffusing his bloodstream with grateful affection … and in a sudden flash, he realised something he should have known all along: he wasn’t just attracted to Remus. He was fucking in love with the unfriendly bastard.

Coughing, Sirius gulped the last of his wine and snatched his eyes away from Remus’ devouring softness. “Cheers mate,” he choked, then searched wildly for something else to say, ignoring Remus’ hand on his leg. “Uh. What’re the dogs’ names? You’ve never told me.”

Remus grinned, bright and beautiful, his face lighting up. He turned back against the dog’s fur, opened his wine-stained lips and gave her ear a playful nip. “This is Ochre. ‘Cause she’s red, right?”

“Okay,” Sirius said, tongue sweeping across his own lip, wicking away the tint of wine as he tried to focus, to not think about anything else. Not those teeth. Not the taste of wine flavouring Remus’ smile. Sirius’ heart thudded against his eardrums, pounding fire through his bloodstream. Oh dear god, he was going to die, he never should have come to Remus for help, he didn’t even know why…

But this was the Remus he’d been searching for. The man behind the masks. The person with his guards lowered. 

Remus seemed entirely oblivious to his internal war. He tried to snap his fingers and failed, laughed as he tried again, failed again. Then he tried to whistle and instead simply laughed his way through a scraping hiss of air. “Crow!” he finally just called, and the kelpie trotted over. Remus turned to Sirius, beaming. “And this is Crow. ‘Cause she’s black.”

“Truly inspiring,” Sirius said, barely aware of the words. He put his fingers out and the kelpie crept over, pressing her head against his hand. He scratched her gently, grounding himself with the touch. She twisted and licked his fingers.

“Figures you’d get on, huh?” Remus said and Sirius threw him a quizzical glance. “A pair of black dogs,” he clarified.

“Is that a joke?” Sirius asked, mouth pulling. “It’s terrible.”

“Well, I’m very drunk,” Remus said, and chuckled. “Can’t expect me to be at my wittiest, can you?”

“I wouldn’t know what your wittiest is like,” Sirius returned. “Seeing as how you’re so professional all the time.”

“Well, I have to be,” Remus said, sitting up again. Ochre sprawled across his lap, trying to keep her place and ultimately crawling onto the seat between them, turning to rest her head on Remus’ thigh. “Can’t afford to piss people off if I wanna keep a job.”

Sirius remembered the referees he had contacted prior to hiring Remus himself. “I don’t think people dislike you as much as you reckon.”

Remus shrugged and swigged his wine. “All the same. It’s something I’m aware of.”

“That’s fucked,” Sirius said. He kept his eyes locked sightlessly on Crow’s glossy coat, but his right leg began to jig, restless. “Look, maybe I should go and look again … or wait at home in case Reg comes back.”

“Oh.” Remus hesitated, then murmured, “Well, whatever you think is best.”

“Yeah, I-” Sirius’ words died as Remus’ phone suddenly chimed.

“Ahhh.” He pulled it from his pocket and squinted at the screen, stabbing it with a stumbling fingertip. Then he turned the phone towards Sirius. “Told’ja.”

**_Found him. He’s safe. Will keep you posted._ **

A moment later, a replica message arrived on Sirius’ phone and his breath rushed out of him in one swooping gasp. “Thank christ.”

“Where would we be without James,” Remus said, shoving himself onto shaky feet.

“Fuckin’ oath,” Sirius said, exhaustion shattering through his fraught nerves. He dropped forwards, leaning over his knees and drawing in a deep, steadying breath. 

“You can have a proper drink now,” Remus said, snatching Sirius’ empty glass and shifting back towards the kitchenette. “Look like ya need it.”

“I - no,” Sirius said, tipping his head back, glaring at Remus through lank hair. “Nah, mate. I should … should head home. Let you get back to it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Remus said, twisting open another bottle of wine. “You absolutely should not be alone. I’ll drive you home later if need be.”

“You can’t drive,” Sirius said, confused. 

“Then I’ll walk you home.” Remus was unperturbed.

“You’ll have to walk back.” Sirius wondered if Remus were making fun of him. 

“Then you can stay here the night,” Remus said, an impatient dismissiveness casting across his voice as he carried the drinks back over again. “You do own the place.”

Frowning, Sirius studied him for a long moment. “So. This is what it takes to get you to spend time with me, yeah? Proper drama.”

“Can’t leave a damsel in distress,” Remus said lightly, passing him the glass.

Eyebrows twitching in an equal mix of amusement and derision, Sirius said, “Never thought of myself as a  _ damsel _ .”

“Pretty enough,” Remus said, dropping back beside him.

“Don’t flirt with me,” Sirius grizzled. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Remus’ voice went slightly distant, but his smile was easy and benevolent. “So. We’re having a drink together after all.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, trying to force his myriad sources of panic to the side. If this was the one chance he was going to get to see beneath Remus’ armour then he wasn’t going to waste it. “Not killing you, is it?”

“We’ll see,” Remus smiled, sipping gently. “Drink’s not finished yet.”

A wry curl pulled the corner of Sirius’ mouth into a smile. “Thanks for this,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”

Remus rested his head against the back of the couch, curling up again. His bare toes wriggled against the seat, nails gleaming with glossy yellow polish. “S’all good. I can see you need it. Not always easy, being on ya own, is it? No one there when you need ‘em.”

“Right,” Sirius said, eyeing him. “How are  _ you  _ managing, being here on your own? Or … are you seeing someone?”

Taking a steady breath, Remus met his gaze. “No. No one. But I cope.”

Sirius swigged his wine thoughtfully, wondering why Remus was so adamant to decline his company if he was lonely. Perhaps he simply preferred to be alone. “Do you have family here?”

Remus’ smile turned sad. “Not anymore. My mum died a couple years ago. That’s why I moved to Broken Hill.”

Startled, Sirius couldn’t quite believe Remus was actually talking to him without urging. He mentally thanked the wine and took another mouthful. “So you wouldn’t be on your own when you need someone?” he asked.

Curls swaying about his jaw, Remus shook his head. “No. Because I didn’t like being here without her. My mum … she was properly into culture and Country.”

“And you’re not?” Sirius asked, amazed at the uncharacteristic forthcomingness.

“I…” Remus’ eyes slid away from his, a frown creasing his brow. “I didn’t get it so easy growing up. ‘Cause’a how I look, ya know? ‘Specially after dad left. And he didn’t want me involved with it, anyway, he sorta just … wanted me to be like a whitefella, really. Guess I got a bit mixed up about it all, so I wasn’t as involved as mum ever wanted. And then, when she died, I was too guilty to stay here.”

“She musta been pretty young?” Sirius said, then grimaced mentally at his customary lack of tact.

“Health gap,” Remus said, words clipped tight.

“Wow,” Sirius murmured. 

Scowling at the wall, Remus said, “Don’t tell James. He’ll try to rationalise it.”

Laughing softly, Sirius promised, “I won’t say a thing. So why did you come back?”

Sour resignation breathed into a heavy sigh and Remus’ voice grew increasingly vacant. “My dad’s not the easiest person to live with.”

“Fair enough,” Sirius said. He squinted curiously at Remus. “I can’t quite believe this is happening. You’re actually talking to me. Like, telling me things.”

Remus shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll regret it tomorrow,” he mumbled. “Why don’t you talk before I spill all my secrets?”

“Your secrets are very safe with me,” Sirius assured him, keen to keep Remus chatting. “And I’m an open book, I’ll tell you anything.”

“Hm. So, how come you moved here?” Remus asked, eyes drifting back towards his. “From England, I mean.”

“Same reason,” Sirius said easily. “Our parents died. Alphard came over in the sixties as a ten-pound-Pom. He sorta had to take us, but he’s not really a ‘kids’ kinda guy, so he sent us to boarding school.”

“Where you met James,” Remus grinned. 

“Yeah,” Sirius said. He wriggled around, hooked one knee up on the seat between them. “How come I never met you, though?”

“Oh, well. I spent the holidays with my dad, of course,” Remus said. “And I left school during year eleven, became a shearer. And then a jackaroo. Travelled a lot for work in those first years, and then I settled on a farm down the Yorke. So I’ve not really been just  _ around _ .”

“A shame for me,” Sirius said, the wine beginning to unstick his tongue, fuzzing gently along the edges of his mind. “But it’s worked out nicely I guess.”

“I’m not complaining,” Remus agreed, blinking slow and heavily. “Can we talk about something else? I don’t wanna get maudlin this close to bedtime.”

Sirius laughed, and happily changed the subject. “What kind of music do you play?” Grinning, he gestured to Remus’ guitar with his wine glass.

A tipsy Remus was fantastically easy to talk to, and he prattled on in good cheer as they finished their drinks. Feeling his own control starting to slip, Sirius refused another glass. Every time Remus’ mouth moved he wanted to trace it with his fingertips. 

“Reckon I’ve had’a ‘nough, too, ta be honest,” Remus mumbled, taking the empty glasses. He staggered across the room and slid them into the sink. “What time’re we starting work tomorrow?”

“Late,” Sirius said, shoving himself to his feet. “I should head off. Be there when Reg gets home.”

“You really are welcome to stay,” Remus said, leaning on the counter and gazing across at him with dark, unreadable eyes. “Are you safe to drive?”

“One glass, one kilometre backroad … should make it, yeah.”

“If you’re sure, then,” Remus said. He wandered over to the front door and Sirius joined him. He pulled the door open, letting in the draft of mid-winter, gusts of sub-zero wind rushing into the warm room, swirling down Sirius’ collar and tickling icy fingers over his skin.

He shivered. “Fuck it’s cold out there.”

Remus breathed deep, as though scenting the air, absorbing its moisture, which promised to settle into a thick frost before dawn. “Yep.”

Pausing, Sirius leaned against the doorframe and glanced at him. Fuck they were close. He wanted to lean into Remus’ warmth, use it to replace the heat being osmotically sucked from him by the night.

Remus smiled back at him, soft and sleepy, head tipped lazily to one side. “Okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah,” Sirius said. He licked his lower lip, eyes lingering on Remus’ mouth. He must be feeling the wine more than he’d realised, because he was being cooked from inside with an electric, giddy desire to lean forwards and kiss him. “Uhm. Uh, thanks. For tonight.”

“Totally fine,” Remus said.

“Remus?” Sirius rubbed a hand across his jaw, but it did nothing to stop the words from spilling past his lips. 

“Mm?”

“What would you do if I tried to kiss you right now?”

Remus blinked again, eyes settling shut for a long moment, lashes dark against his brown skin. “I would very politely ask you to leave,” he murmured after a moment, voice light and sweet. “But since you’re going anyway, I’ll just say … don’t try it, Boss.”

His eyes opened and caught Sirius’ for a moment. There was no judgement there, but something that tasted unpleasantly like horror swarmed through Sirius’ gut anyway. “Sorry,” he rasped. “Must be drunk after all.”

“Drive safe,” Remus said quietly. “Though my offer stands if you wanna stay.”

“Nah,” Sirius said. Everything in his being was screeching at him to get away, a swarming adrenaline reigniting his panic. “But thanks.”

“Okay. G’night, mate,” Remus said, and smiled.

He held the door open until Sirius got into his car, the light sweeping across the dirt driveway to guide him.

Creeping along at twenty kph, Sirius used the few minutes it took him to get home to mentally flay himself for being such an unbelievable dickhead. Regulus still wasn’t back when he finally parked, and Sirius belatedly thought to check his phone - there was a text from James timestamped nearly an hour prior.

**_Everything’s okay. He’s gonna stay at mine tonight. Touch base with you in the am._ **

It was probably just as well. Sirius needed some space to dissect his own stupidity before he refocused on his brother again.


	7. July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some low-key smut here. Trust your boundaries if you wanna skip it.

July

James woke up on the first day of July with Regulus Black in his bed.

l-l

It wasn’t late but it wasn’t early either when Remus called. Regardless, James shoved his feet into his Blundstones and jumped in the car. He didn’t know how long Sirius had been fretting, but he knew his friends well enough not to hesitate.

He knew exactly where to go. Deep in his bones, James knew there was only one place Regulus, if he were as distressed as James imagined him to be, would have gone.

He spun the car along dirt roads, skittering around corners, not caring about the stones flying up the sideskirts. He barely thought to keep an eye out for kangaroos as he pelted towards Sevenhill Cellars.

A sigh of relief nonetheless parted James’ lips when he saw Regulus’ Camry haphazardly parked by the lawn outside St. Aloysius. A quick glance through the window proved the vehicle empty, but he had expected that.

The night was already freezing. Thick mist settled only feet above his head, and James shivered as he crunched across the damp grass. He hadn’t stopped to grab a jacket.

With careful steps, James lit the narrow stone stairs with his phone light and traipsed down to the crypt.

The sensor light didn’t come on when James swung the door open and he frowned, reached for the switch, remembering it was in the high corner. He was glad when he didn’t connect with any cobwebs as he fumbled.

He found the switch and flicked it. Light flooded the long, narrow room … and there was Regulus, just as he’d expected, sitting on the concrete and curled up tight. Face pressed into his knees and arms locked around his legs, he didn’t shift at all when the light came on.

“It’s James,” James said softly. He approached slowly but Regulus didn’t seem aware of him at all. Careful and precise, James dropped adjacent to him on the floor, facing an ancient headstone; the name was barely legible in the cracked shadows spilling over the angled engraving:  _ Frater Georgius Sadler. 1865. _

He sensed the slight shift of tension in Regulus’ body, an infinitesimal opening to his presence and James wriggled closer. Echoing Regulus’ position, he bumped gently against him as he sought to give comfort and steal warmth. Very gently, he slid his arm around Regulus’ knees and hugged them against his side.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” James murmured. “But are you … you haven’t…?”

Regulus’ head rocked sideways, a tiny shake.

Letting his breath out slowly, James said, “Okay. I’m just gonna text Sirius so he stops worrying. Alright?”

There was no reaction at all.

They sat in long, absolute silence, the light timing out and throwing them into saturated darkness. The usual night time sounds James was used to didn’t seem to penetrate the heaviness of the crypt, no twoo-ing owls or screaming possums, no howling shake of wind through the bank of trees splitting the college from the church.

It was colder than James could bear, seeping under his clothes and into his muscles, his bones … he shivered and bore it anyway.

Once he figured Regulus was settled enough with his intrusion, James spoke again, choosing his words with care and letting them ease into the frigid air. “Reckoned I’d find you here. I remember how soothing you used to find it. Anything you say will stay here, okay?”

There was a beat and then Regulus cleared his throat and whispered, “I just needed to get out of the house.”

“Why?” James prompted softly. 

Shifting slightly, Regulus’ voice was croaky and tentative. One of his hands curled around James’ arm, fingers grasping painfully tight. “It was all like … like I was trapped. In my head, but also in … in  _ place _ .”

“Okay.” James didn’t even begin to understand.

Regulus quivered and arched back a bit, resting his chin on his knees. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Until two years ago. And I thought, if I ignored it, it would just go away. But it doesn’t, it doesn’t, it just gets  _ worse _ .”

“What happened?”

Regulus shook his head erratically, a shudder ripping through him. It triggered the sensor light and James’ grimaced a reactive squint as a sharp yellow glow pierced the dark. Mouth pressed tight, Regulus breathed, “I can’t … no.”

Swallowing, James squeezed his leg. “Okay, it’s okay. Take a deep breath.”

He did, ragged and shaking. There was a long pause before Regulus began again. “It … keeps building. I’m trapped with it, always. I tried to get past it, but I … things weren’t the same. Nothing was the same, that’s why I left. I had to leave, to get away from … but it’s followed me.”

“Kid,” James said. “You can get help for this. Surely the RAAF have people trained specifically for … for PTSD.” He felt genuinely stupid stumbling over the acronym.

Regulus finally turned and looked at him. His eyes were dry but red-rimmed, his face a map of wretchedness. “I was  _ tested  _ for this. I was trained to resist it. I’ve  _ failed _ at the one thing I’m supposed to be resilient against. D’you  _ know _ what other people have seen, and lived and  _ endured _ ? I don’t have any excuse.”

Meeting his eyes, James searched for an appropriate tone of voice, something stern but compassionate, and said, “I can’t begin to imagine. But I know being ashamed is not the way to deal with it.”

Holding his gaze, Regulus’ lip trembled, and all the sorrow James was trying to hold at bay flooded through him in a sudden rush. “You dunno so much, James,” Regulus whispered. “Maybe I should be ashamed.”

Eyeing him sadly, James shuffled his weight. He couldn’t feel his arse anymore, just the tundra-like tiles pressing ice against his body. He was beginning to properly shake. “Reg,” he said quietly. “You were seventeen. No one knows what they’re doing at seventeen. You  _ had _ to give them nine years. I think a lot more was out of your control than you’re allowing for.”

“I thought I was doing something …  _ honourable _ ,” Regulus agreed, his voice filled with disgust. His fingers tightened further on James’ arm, black-painted nails digging into his skin. His eyes burned with the intensity of personal truth. “There’s no honour in war.”

“I believe you,” James said. “Reggie, you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

There was another pause, then Regulus dropped his forehead back to his knees and mumbled, “I don’t wanna deal with it at all.”

Making his voice very gentle, James said, “And look how well that’s working for you.” A muffled grunt was his only answer and James knew that whatever was in Regulus’ head, he wasn’t going to get anymore insight by pushing, at least not at that moment. So he merely said, “I’ll always be here to help,” and let the silence fall again.

The light went out. James’ arm began to sting where Regulus clung to it. The permeating cold spread through his blood, body quaking with painful shudders as he began to lose all feeling beyond the fully-encompassing iciness. His teeth chattered, yet Regulus seemed lost again, unaware.

It felt as though he would never be warm again, as though nothing would defrost the chill gripping his body and finally after untrackable minutes, James whispered, “Reggie … we can stay here as long as you need. But I’m freezing my fucking nads off. You can spend the night at mine if you don’t want to go home yet.”

Regulus unfolded himself, the light snapping on again. There was an apology on his face as he looked up at James, and something else, something just as aching as his despair … and then he lurched towards James and kissed him.

His lips were cold and clumsy, but they landed square against James’ astonished mouth and clung, lingering against his with an unassuming passion that was wonderfully endearing.

He darted away before James had a chance to kiss him properly, disappointment filling the space between them. Voice dry and uncertain, Regulus whispered, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” James said, stammering slightly through the trembling in his teeth. “Well?”

Nodding, Regulus began to unfold his body, clearly as stiff and nearly as cold as James was. “Jesus, you don’t even have a coat.”

Getting up, James stamped his boots against the floor and reached his numb fingers to grab Regulus’ hand, hauling him to his feet. Icy fingers twined through his and, not quite certain what was happening between them, James led the way back to the stairs.

“Wanna leave your car here?” James asked as they crossed the grass. His breath bloomed a cloud of dense fog in the starlit blackness. “I can bring you back in the morning.”

Regulus shook his head. “I’ll follow you. I promise.”

The recommended speed on the three kilometre tangle of roads back to James’ cottage was thirty kilometres an hour. The few minutes it took to traverse it meant his car heater was entirely useless and he shivered his way home, preoccupied by the kiss but far more concerned with the trauma boiling inside Regulus’ soul.

He pulled his car into the port, Regulus’ tyres crunching against the gravel as he parked behind him. Leading the way to the house, James was uncomfortably aware of the distance between them after everything that had occurred.

The key was in the lock; he twisted it and shoved his way inside, thrilled to see embers still glowing low, red heat in the fireplace. He’d left the lamps on, a comfortable light permeating the warm room.

James thrust the door shut and beelined to the fireplace, lifting the grate out and beginning to stoke the flames. Regulus hovered for a moment and James threw a glance over his shoulder. “You want tea or something?” he asked.

Shaking his head, Regulus moved over to him. He sank down beside James.

Throwing kindling into the stove, James shivered. He wouldn’t mind tea himself, something to thaw his body. Then Regulus’ hand touched his back, slowly sliding across him, absorbing the quaking in his muscles.

Layering some wood as the kindling sparked and took, large tongues of flame roaring into the flue, James sat back and glanced over at him.

Regulus was chewing at his lip, eyes gleaming with reflected fire and fixed on James. “About that kiss…”

“Mm,” James hummed, refusing to think about what Regulus was about to say. He would not get his hopes up, he had never dared to think about what might be. But Regulus’ fingers found the hem of his skivvy and slipped underneath. He flinched violently, gasping as an icy touch brushed against his skin. “Fuckin’ hell, Reg, your hands are freezing!”

“Warm them up for me,” Regulus whispered. His eyes glinted with meaning, dark in the conflicting shadows. “There’s something between us, isn’t there? I’m not imagining it.”

“Reg,” James’ voice choked in his throat. He blinked, the heat of the fire beginning to reach him, but too slowly; he was tempted to stick his hands directly into the flames. He shuddered, Regulus’ fingers slipping around his side. James caught his hand, pulled it away. “I don’t think now is the right time.”

Regulus was shaking too, though James couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, or the anxious day, or something else. “I just… just for tonight, I don’t want to  _ think  _ anymore. Please?” 

Raising trembling fingers, James gently touched Regulus’ jaw. The heat of his skin was painful against his own chilled bones, reflecting the swirl of emotions in his chest. Carefully, he asked, “Are you sure?”

Mouth twisting down, Regulus muttered, “I’m not sure of anything anymore. But yeah, I want to.”

“Well…” Still uncertain, James hesitated. “What do you want me to do?” 

“Whatever you want,” Regulus whispered. He shuffled closer, smoothing his palm against James’ bare skin. “Just … please? I need…”

Not quite believing what was happening, James agreed to it anyway. He nodded slowly. “Okay, Reggie.”

Regulus’ breath caught between his parted lips and then he closed the space between them, surprising James by reaching for his glasses, lifting them off and setting them carefully aside.

Their eyes met and James searched one last time for any reason to not … then he slid a hand around Regulus’ neck and dragged him forwards. Their lips met, and James’ hesitancy was immediately overrun by Regulus’ desperation; he surged forwards, shifting against James with starving touches, hands skimming down his face, neck, shoulders.

He pulled away and whispered, “Fuck, you’re freezing.”

“Doesn’t matter,” James murmured, shivering beneath his exploratory fingers. He pressed his mouth against Regulus’ neck, slow, firm kisses, encouraged by the shift in Regulus’ breathing. He licked a broad stripe up his throat and Regulus’ hands twisted in his shirt, head tipping sideways in encouragement. 

Sucking vague kisses across his neck, James tracked his hands over Regulus’ body, so familiar to him from all the years they’d known each other and yet entirely new, waiting to be discovered - muscles firm from military training, lean angles beneath the soft layers of his winter clothes, warm and eager.

James found the hem of his shirt, slid his hands underneath and Regulus started violently at the touch of his frozen fingers. “Jesus christ,” he snapped, shivering back. 

“C’mere,” James mumbled, grabbing Regulus’ hips roughly and hauling him onto his lap. Knocked off balance, he swayed forwards, their chests knocking together and then he settled on James’ thighs, his weight offering a welcoming warmth. Regulus’ hands wrapped in his hair, pulled him into another kiss, artless and breathless and frantic. He rocked down hard against James, who shifted away slightly. “Godssake, kid. Slow down.”

“No,” Regulus breathed. “Now. C’mon, James.”

“Fucking…” Amused more than annoyed, James tipped his head gently against Regulus’ grip, enjoying it. “I’m too cold to even get it up yet. All my blood is fucking frozen.”

“Oh,” Regulus squinted at him through the firelight. “‘Course. It was gonna get to like, minus-five tonight.”

Casting a regretful glance at the rekindled fire, James nudged Regulus back. “Bed then, I reckon.”

Regulus sucked in a shaky breath. “Yeah, okay.”

They scrambled to their feet and James curled his fingers through Regulus’ and led him to the frosty bedroom. Snapping on a lamp, he caught a flash of surprise cast across Regulus’ face. “What?”

“I didn’t expect you to be so  _ tidy _ ,” he said. Biting his lip, he sank onto the side of the bed and glanced up at James through his hair. It was beginning to grow over his eyes, uncut since he’d resigned from the RAAF. “Can we leave the lights off?”

James rubbed his arms, trying in vain to get some level of warmth into his body before he undressed. “Why?”

“S’easier for me to switch off if I can’t see. Like, I uh … tune in on a different level. I dunno,” Regulus’ voice dropped into a self-conscious mumble, eyes flicking away. “I don’t know how it works.”

“Doesn’t matter how it works,” James said, impatience tinging his tone. “Only matters that it does. But can I … can I … see you first?”

A shy smile touched the edge of Regulus’ mouth. “If you want, yeah.”

Pulling him to his feet, James kissed Regulus slowly, deep and consuming as he fiddled with buttons and zippers and eased Regulus out of his clothes, excitement bubbling in his chest as each divestment revealed more skin, something he had wanted for so long finally at his fingertips and waiting to be played with.

James shoved Regulus’ trousers down and shamelessly eyed him, scaling hands across his body as he took the moment in. His breath shook.

Regulus’ cheeks were pink, but his tiny smile was a pleased one. He stepped forwards again, brushing his knuckles down the front of James’ trousers. “You hard yet?” he whispered, naked and shivering, but not suffering for it.

Lust drove heat through James’ veins and he nodded vaguely, eyes tracking over him. “Gettin’ there,” he said, then steered Regulus firmly towards the mattress. “Get in the bed.”

He did, immediately and with obvious relief, sliding between the sheets and watching James as he rapidly threw off his own clothes. Eyeing Regulus, a wave of surreal amazement crashed over James - Regulus Black, in his bed. He must have died of hypothermia in the crypt, this couldn’t be real.

Dropping his clothes in a dishevelled heap on the floor, James dived desperately towards the bed, hauling the covers over his naked skin. He breathed a startled huff as the cold sheets touched him, automatically turning towards Regulus’ warmth. He opened immediately to James’ touch, making space for him.

Their bodies moved together, bare limbs slipping across the bed, bumping one another in a mutual eagerness to fit naked skin against skin. Pausing only to snap the lights off, James sought Regulus’ warmth, smoothing his hands over trim, firm muscles, lean waist, bony hip… Flexing against him, Regulus’ cheek brushed his in the dark, turning to seek his mouth. James paused. “Reggie, just … have you ever … with a guy before?”

He was startled when Regulus actually laughed at him, bright and spontaneous. His flippant reply was filled with soft mischief. “Once or twice.”

Spreading his hand down Regulus’ thigh, James hooked his leg up and tucked it against his side, settling his weight between Regulus’ legs. Tipping his hips carefully, James leaned down and whispered, “Just checking.”

Regulus’ hands scraped down his back, nails scratching him thoughtlessly before digging into his arse and yanking him closer. 

James refused to be hurried. Every touch was measured, deliberate, aimed at pulling Regulus’ mind away from his turbulent thoughts in favour of pure sensory absorption. Unable to see his face, James tried to guess where his attention was focused in the way they touched. He pressed Regulus into the mattress and began to explore him.

Between feasting kisses, slow hands and clever fingers, James felt him unwind. The rigidity of residual panic melted out of his body and left him malleable and hungry; it wasn’t a quick transition, but the time it took restored the warmth in James’ own body and he was just as grateful for that as for anything else.

Ignoring the need that suffused his own blood, James gradually worked his way down Regulus’ body. His skin was prickled with gooseflesh, but soft … James wanted to see, to learn secret freckles and properly acquaint himself with a birthmark he’d once noticed during their school years. Instead, he used the darkness to his advantage, touching in unexpected places, hovering fingertips and light teases that forced Regulus to pay attention to him. 

There was a tight, aching pull low in his belly, a burning need to touch himself, nerve impulses screaming to get off … James pushed it aside, let it fuel the foreplay.

“You’re holding back,” Regulus breathed through the empty air. His fingers trailed across James’ shoulders, tangling in the hair at his nape. “I can feel it.”

“Don’t you worry about what I’m doing,” James mumbled, pressing his mouth against his chest. 

His thoroughness was mainly for Regulus, but also, James had no desire to rush. He wanted every centimetre of Regulus’ body branded on his memory incase tomorrow dawned with a promise of  _ never again _ . 

By the time he finally looped Regulus’ thighs over his shoulders, James was no longer sure which one of them was more desperate for it. He wrapped his mouth around Regulus’ cock, wrapped one fist around his own and groaned as the tension in his belly unravelled in a spool of pleasure.

Regulus mumbled a vibrant string of words James’ couldn’t track and jerked against the sheets, hands tugging ungently at James’ hair, trying to hurry him again.

He savoured every moment. 

Dragging his tongue lazily across Regulus’ cock, James sucked him deep and long, getting off on the giving. He dusted experimental touches across his skin, delighting in each tiny thing that Regulus reacted to. 

For both their sakes, he made it last. When Regulus came, he was trembling almost as violently as James had been in the crypt. His hands convulsed in James’ hair, guttural sighs cracking the silence and sending smug tingles of delight shivering down James’ spine.

He pressed his face into the arch of Regulus’ hip and came into his fist.

There was a long moment of nothing, just shattered breathing and gripping fingers, before James began to reorientate to the room. Regulus tugged his hair, a questioning beckon and James drew a deep breath and turned to look at him, seeing nothing through the darkness. Carefully, he levered himself up the bed again, nosing his way across Regulus’ skin until their faces were close.

“You okay now, kid?” he whispered, feeling Regulus tip towards him, warm breath casting across his cheek.

“Uh huh,” Regulus murmured. His hand skimmed James’ flank. “What about you?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” James said, happy meaning spicing his tone. He absently licked Regulus’ face, discovered the corner of his mouth, kissed him with lingering softness.

“Oh,” Regulus said when James drew back again. He stroked downwards, over the curve of James’ arse. “I guess I’ll owe you then.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” James said, brusqueness making his voice acidic. “I’ll be back in a mo, okay?”

Regulus squeezed his arse then released him. “Yeah.”

Ducking to the bathroom to clean himself up, James hurried back to bed as the cold immediately slapped him again. He slipped back between the covers and was surprised when Regulus crept towards him, tucked against his side, slipped an arm around him. There was a beat of silence, then James asked, “You sure you’re okay?”

Regulus nodded against his chest, but his voice was fragile. “Why, d’ja want me to go?” 

“No,” James snapped, incredulous. He coiled an arm around Regulus to prove it. “Just checkin’. Go to sleep, kid.”

l-l

James woke up on the first day of July with Regulus Black in his bed.

He looked exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with a poor night’s sleep, pallid against the dark sheets, ghostly in the shadows filtering through the curtains. 

James reached out and brushed his dark hair back from his brow, wondering what this morning would bring. The touch was enough to rouse him; Regulus wriggled against the bed, murmuring waking noises, and his eyes blinked open.

Clearing his throat, James offered a tentative, “Morning.”

“Already?” Regulus grumbled. Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned his face into the pillow, fingers flexing against the mattress as though he could claw his way back into slumbering oblivion.

“I’m gonna make coffee,” James said, because he needed to do something other than just wait for Regulus. Something that felt maddeningly like anxiety weighed his chest down. “You want some?”

Regulus nodded, not looking around. Yet when James returned a few minutes later he was sitting up against the pillows, blankets tucked neatly around him. He smiled when James handed him a cup.

James sat on the side of the bed, draped in the warm winter robe he’d donned upon getting up. “So,” he said, surprised himself by how sober his voice was. “Do we need to like, talk about last night or something?”

Regulus shrugged, staring into his cup with unconcerned eyes. “I definitely want to have sex again, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he said easily. 

“Just sex?” James asked. 

Regulus’ gaze flicked up to meet his, dark and suddenly guarded. “More than sex would be nice,” he began carefully. “But I’m not going to … presume.”

The weight in James’ chest eased and a tiny smile curved his mouth. “More than sex it is,” he agreed. Then he reached out and tapped his fingers gently to Regulus’ temple. “As long as you know you can’t use me to fix whatever’s in here.”

The guard in Regulus’ eyes hardened. He grabbed James’ fingers, twisted their hands together. “I know,” he said. His voice was low and heavy, a heartbreaking shadow of his demons colouring the air between them. 

Tipping towards him slightly, James said, “I do want to help, though. But you gotta get proper help, too. I’m not a bandage, Reggie.”

“That’s not what this is,” he murmured, tilting his face over the steam rising from his mug. “Deployment … makes dating kinda impossible. Otherwise I prob’ly woulda asked you before now.”

James blinked. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” Regulus sipped his coffee. “Prob’ly.” 

“How … how  _ long _ before now?”

The question earned him another shrug. “A while.”

James eyed him for a moment, ignoring the pinching regret trying to take root in his mind. “I didn’t know,” he said finally.

Regulus glanced up at him again. “Been a while for you too, huh?”

“Fuck, Reggie.” James scrubbed his hand roughly through his hair, pulling it over his glasses-free eyes. “Since school.”

There was a  _ clunk _ as Regulus put his cup down beside James’ on the bedside table and then his fingers curled around James’ wrist, dragging his hand down. Their eyes met, gentle sadness hanging between them and then James leaned forwards and kissed him, letting it soothe all the potential bad mood before it could catch him.

When they broke apart again, James climbed into the bed and they talked over their coffee, James carefully turning the conversation back to Regulus’ problems. “So’re you alright today?” 

Regulus shook his head, myriad earrings glinting in the ribbon of winter sunlight slanting into the room. “M’never alright, really,” he said lowly.

Considering him, James suggested, “Maybe it’s time to think about what you wanna do. Doesn’t have to be a job or anything … but is there a hobby you could take up? Somethin’ta make ya happy?”

Regulus rested a hand against his mouth, thoughtful. Almost shyly, he said, “I miss having horses.”

“Oh yeah,” James said, remembering the dozens of co-curriculars their school had offered. “Well, why not get one? They make good pets, yeah?”

“Maybe,” Regulus said, looking reassured.

James slid an arm around him. “I dunno shit about horses, but Moony does. He could help you pick one.”

“Remus?” 

“Mhm. He worked on stations in between shearing seasons back when he was a traveling hobo.”

Blinking slowly, Regulus’ brow gave a bemused twitch. “Maybe I’ll ask him.” He relaxed back against the pillows and gave a tremendously heavy sigh. “I should probably go soon, Sirius’ll be worrying.”

“Okay,” James said softly. His immediate reaction was a desire to grab Regulus and pin him to the bed and keep him there all day and maybe a few more days as well.

“Can … can I come back later?” Regulus asked, and this time he definitely was shy, not able to meet James’ eyes. 

“‘Course ya can,” James said, impatience sliding incongruent over his words. “You come here anytime you need to get away, alright?”

“Okay,” Regulus agreed. He plucked at the blanket nervously, biting his lip before finally asking, “Can we not tell Sirius just yet? I’d rather not deal with his opinion today.”

“Totally,” James said, leaning forward and gently kissing the curve of Regulus’ neck. “I’m in no hurry to deal with him either.” He wasn’t sure if Sirius would be smug or irascible, but neither was something he wished to invite.

“Right then,” Regulus sighed and levered himself out of the bed.

They kissed goodbye in the driveway, minutes slipping away as neither of them was prepared to be the first to step back. When Regulus finally got into his car and drove away, James ineffectually tried to shake the whirling emptiness out of his head, trying to snap his brain back into action. Instead, he decided to give the day up as anti-productive, went back inside and collapsed on the couch.

l-l

Winter meant James could not dawdle inside during daylight hours. Unlike fruit picking, his parents did not trust pruning to just anyone, and they avoided machines. So for James it was just about his busiest time, working along the rows, block to block. When the weather made being outdoors impossible he spent his days in the cellars instead.

“Moscato,” Fleamont said with a critical sneer. “Can’t believe how popular this is.”

“People like sweet stuff,” James said, leaning over his shoulder and checking their order sheets. “Reckon we oughta plant more?”

“Mm, maybe. I can’t believe this is out-selling the riesling.”

“It’s like, a thing now. Peeps who don’t like wine drink it to feel posh.”

Fleamont eyed him. “I don’t understand this way you speak.”

James grinned and kissed his cheek, then wandered off to help their cellar hands with the racking.

A couple of times a week, Regulus would come over and they’d sit by the fire and talk over drinks. His active progress was slow enough to frustrate James, but with a tailored method of cajoling he eventually went online to explore his options.

“So whatta ya reckon?” James asked one evening, pushing a cup of peppermint tea into Regulus’ hands. 

“Yeah,” he said, staring into his cup. “It’s hard to even look into, ‘cause that’s like … admitting it, you know?”

“Admitting what?” James asked, knowing the answer already.

Regulus toyed with the cotton thread clinging to the edge of his cup, stained yellow by the brew creeping up its length. He was silent for so long James thought maybe he’d pressed too hard, that Regulus wasn’t going to answer. Then, in an iron tone he bit, “That I’m injured.”

Amusement quirked the corner of James’ mouth. “Injured, huh?”

“Psychological injury,” Regulus grumbled. “That’s what it’s called. But I checked out the DVA, and AT-Ease and Open Arms and some other stuff. There’s a process, but yeah. There’s help.”

“Well,” James said, gentle again. “Use it. Does your white card cover it?”

Regulus nodded. “First step is GP, but. I don’t have a regular one.”

“You wanna go to mine?”

“Maybe. Actually, I kinda wondered if you’d come with me,” Regulus said, glancing up at him finally, dark eyes shielded by his lashes. 

“‘Course, if you want,” James said. “And then we’ll do something nice afterwards.”

“Fine,” Regulus muttered, looking away again. The corner of his lips twitched slightly, the tiniest of possible smiles. “Like what?”

“I’ll let you decide,” James promised. “When d’you wanna do it, then?”

On a sigh, Regulus said, “Soon,” and changed the subject.


	8. August

August

After long days spent in the tractor, Remus was glad to sleep in when several days of rain made the ground too soft for working. The weeding and fertilising was on track, the crop yield looking better than he had anticipated when Sirius first took him over the farm. The unexpectedly wet winter was to thank, the best season in too many years.

Lambing had finished about six weeks prior, which meant Remus was also busy monitoring the flocks. Sirius was far better at it, far more knowledgeable regarding all aspects of breeding than Remus was, and he tended the sheep with a startling conscientiousness. He made every effort to rescue orphaned lambs.

“You’re more sentimental than most farmers,” Remus had said. He meant it as a compliment, but Sirius snorted dismissively.

“Yeah, well. I’ve had’ta listen to James spout all sorts of shit about animal cruelty over the years. You know how he gets.”

Sirius had been distant with him lately. At first, Remus had been struck by an acute anxiety, wondering if he had said something while drunk the night that Regulus had taken off. Yet as the weeks passed he recognised Sirius was not offended, but more distracted. He put it down to whatever drama was unfolding with Regulus and pretended he was not an absolute hypocrite for being upset when the post-work drink invitations stopped.

Yet again, it may be something to do with a vague memory, that Remus wasn’t sure was real or a wine-fueled dream, where he had come dangerously close to kissing Sirius that cold June night.

In any case, it was lucky he’d been kept too busy to dwell much on it. All Remus genuinely wanted at the end of the day was his own particular brand of peace and quiet - which meant whiskey and music and dozing by the fire.

And a sleep in was pure luxury. 

Hunkering under a mountain of blankets, Remus stirred slightly when Ochre wriggled alongside him, scooting her nose under his arm and snuggling close.

Murmuring a sleepy grunt, Remus curved towards her soft, snuffly presence. “You good dog,” he mumbled, shifting more comfortably and tipping back towards sleep. It was late when he finally staggered out of bed to feed the dogs and drench himself with coffee. 

The work that day was slow and lazy, interrupted by moderate rain and heavy, freezing winds that screeched a howling path through the gaps between the trees. After only a couple of hours Sirius scratched his hair out its straggly knot and declared they were done.

“Shouldn’t’ve even bothered ya,” he grouched. “You coulda had the day off.”

“It’s not a bother,” Remus said. “Though I wouldn’a got dressed.”

Sirius’ pale eyes flicked over him, stifled amusement pinching their corners. “What a fascinating insight into your private life.”

Remus smiled and shrugged, rubbing his hands down his thighs, trying to focus on something other than the warm lilt of Sirius’ accent. He looked away. “Okay, well…”

“Come have a drink,” Sirius said suddenly, and warmth soared through Remus’ chest. “Make the day worth getting dressed for.”

“Oh, nah,” Remus began automatically, eyes scraping across the damp, muddy ground sponging around Sirius’ driveway. The heat built and increased, pressure swelling against his heart. Treacherous words surged up his throat, threatening to spill over his tongue as he tried to politely decline. “Cheers mate, but-”

“If you think I’m gonna let you refuse after the other week, you’ve got another think coming,” Sirius snapped. 

Taken aback slightly, Remus glanced up at him. He’d managed well enough last time, after all - and he wanted to, oh he wanted to. So he shrugged and straightened up. “Alright then.”

A grin split Sirius’ face, highlighting his features. He bit his lower lip but failed to hide his enthusiasm. Remus’ eyes clung to the gleam of teeth, the soft, plump lip … the warmth in his chest began to dribble downwards and he shut his eyes, pushing the image away.

“Excellent,” Sirius said. His voice sounded a little odd, a disembodied haze through the shivering air. “Oy, d’you know what - even better, stay for tea. Prongs is coming - be a nice chance for us all to hang out, yeah?”

Remus blinked. It was early enough that they’d need more than just a drink to fill the time. But instead of retaining a scrap of rational self-restraint, he said, “Can you cook?”

Sirius beamed. “Can I fucking cook,” he said, delighted. “Dude, can I fucking ever. C’mon.”

Remus followed him to the farmhouse, throwing one last uncertain glance at his car before squelching through the mud and through the gate into the kitchen garden. It was verdant, lush with flourishing winter plants.

He toed his Ariats off and stood them neatly by the front door, hovering as Sirius sat unceremoniously on the slab and unlaced his Macks. He hummed vaguely, an idle smile on his mouth. Fingers twitching, Remus pulled his eyes away but a moment later, Sirius clambered nimbly to his feet, socked toes flexing. He arched an eyebrow at Remus, swept a welcoming arm towards the door. “Well, go in.”

Swallowing, Remus pushed an awkward smile across his face. “After you,” he muttered, and fell into step behind Sirius. He noticed a responding eye roll and cringed internally, hoping it was indulgent more than irritated.

He hadn’t been inside Sirius’ house since the night they’d met, when it had been a cool relief from the blistering summer day. Now it was colder inside the heavy stone walls than it was without and Remus’ breath puffed in the air as he tramped down the dark hallway behind Sirius.

“Drink?” Sirius asked, glancing over his shoulder as he stepped into the kitchen. His hair flipped across his shoulder as he turned. Remus hooked his thumbs into his pockets hoping that would stop him wanting to touch. It didn’t.

“Coffee,” he replied, pausing in the doorway.

“Sure?” Sirius said.

“Please,” Remus confirmed. 

With a shrug, Sirius asked how he took it, boiled the kettle and then shoved a cup into Remus’ hand before guiding him through to the lounge room with a jerk of the chin. He glanced at the clock as Remus sank into an armchair, grateful for the fire smouldering in the hotbox.

“James’ll probably be another hour, I guess,” Sirius mused. “Shall I chuck a movie on then?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Remus said, smiling lightly over the lip of his mug. 

“Anything you fancy?” Sirius strolled over to the couch and stretched out on it, grabbing a pair of remote controls and starting to jab buttons. A cheeky grin pulled at his mouth. “I’ve got  _ Wolf Creek _ .”

Remus threw him an arch look. “Is that a joke?”

“Yes,” Sirius said. “But I also do have it in here, thanks to Reg. What else …  _ Red Dog _ ?”

“No way,” Remus said, voice rising with emphasis. “Not watching it.”

“Okay, calm down,” Sirius teased, his grin wide. “Hm …  _ Romulus, My Father _ ?”

“You’re not funny,” Remus said, but laughter crept into his voice. He watched the TV screen as Sirius flipped through the catalogue. “Oh -  _ Bran Nue Dae _ . That’ll do.”

“Fuckin’ classic,” Sirius said, and hit play. As the movie started he eyed Remus and murmured, “This is nice. Us hanging out.”

Heat swept up Remus’ neck. “You say that now,” he said, forcing his voice to stay even. “Wait until you’ve had to endure me for an hour.”

“Oh, piss off,” Sirius said dismissively. “You’re alright. I wouldn’t ask ya if I didn’t want you around.”

The movie was a good balm to the subtle tension between them, something to focus on and use to spark discussion without a huge amount of awkwardness. Regardless, there was a scrap in Remus that wished he had opted for alcohol, something to dull the edge on his nerves.

Sirius rested his head on an armrest and shifted, stretching out, settling. Against his will, Remus’ eyes pulled back towards him and lingered on the rumpled hem of Sirius’ shirt, flipped back to reveal a patch of tight, pale skin striped with dark hair. His blood swirled through his body and left him dizzy.

Sipping his coffee, Remus put it out of his mind and tried to concentrate on the movie, which lasted all of minutes until Sirius flexed against the cushions and hummed appreciatively, “Mm, Dan Sultan.”

Sorrow drizzled through Remus’ chest, the soft, hot pain of conflict between heart and head. He covered it with a smiling reply. “This song is fuckin’ filthy.”

Sirius flicked his eyebrows in gleeful agreement. “Great voice, but.”

It was easy to chatter around the film, simple comments about enjoying a summer rain and Cherry Ripes and whether or not ‘Nothing I Would Rather Be’ was racist.

Remus shrugged when Sirius questioned him, a poorly hidden tentativeness under his words. “I dunno. It’s pretty standard Aussie tongue-in-cheek inappropriateness, yeah? And written by a blackfella, remember. My grandmother was Stolen - this isn’t … comparable.”

Sirius’ eyes were sharp and sober, gleaming in the light reflecting off the screen. “You know, they didn’t teach us anything about anything at school. Even when I came here. Nothing.”

Keeping his voice light, Remus said, “You don’t know what the Stolen Generation was?”

“Only … sorta.” Sirius’ voice was carefully measured, determinedly smooth expression belying his curiosity. 

“It wasn’t great,” Remus said, deliberately flippant. There was no way he was going to subject himself to sudden interrogation by a white person, no matter how sympathetic. “Reckon they don’t want people to know, really.”

There was a beat of silence between them, while Geoffery Rush sang terribly in the background. Then, quietly, Sirius said, “I’d be interested.”

Remus eyed him, resting a thoughtful fingertip against his lip as he considered him. Weighing up the moment, he finally said, “Yeah, okay. But not right now.” 

Something like amazement reflected in Sirius’ eyes. He blinked and smiled. “Sure.”

“Now, shush,” Remus said. “Ernie Dingo’s comin’ up and he’s a fuckin’ legend.”

Sirius laughed gently and rolled his head back towards the screen. Remus planted his elbow on the armrest and rested his cheek in his palm. There was a lament in the next song that gripped his heart, talons biting into his chest and refusing to let go for several long minutes. The words echoed in the hollow place left inside his when his mother died. They plucked at the taut strings of guilt still wrapped there and left them singing a painful reverb. It was a bittersweet relief when the movie trundled on with humour and distracted him.

They watched together in silence, until Sirius yelled, “Magda!” and startled Remus.

He smiled through the scene and responded with, “Fuck Rolf Harris.”

“Amen to that,” Sirius said. “If they knew then what we know now, huh?”

Remus nodded gravely. They lapsed into silence again, comfortable, even companionable, as the movie unwound on the screen, until there was a sudden clatter as the front door was thrust open, booted footfalls thundering down the hallway.

“Zorbas!” James cried, appearing in the doorway.

“How’s that for timing?” Remus grinned, turning towards him.

“Ohmigod, we’re missing  _ Bran Nue Dae _ ?! Hurry up Reg,” James said, striding into the room, fingers clinging to Regulus’ sleeve. Frowning, Remus squinted sharply at him, but James was jigging his way across the room in time to ‘Zorba’s Song’ playing on the TV and seemed utterly oblivious to his keen gaze.

Regulus shook him off and slipped into a chair, slinging his legs over one armrest, while James lifted Sirius’ feet and dropped onto the couch beneath them, tapping his fingers against Sirius’ ankles in beat with the song.

“Gryffindor colours,” James winked, pointing at the team of footballers dancing on the screen. “So, your gay arse is forcing Moony to watch musicals, huh?”

“It was his idea,” Sirius said, ramming one heel into James’ thigh. “Arsehole.”

James beamed and shrugged, then hunched towards Remus. “Fuckin’ stunned to find you here, mate. What’s that about?”

Remus’ eyes slid from James’ face over to Sirius, who was pretending not to be waiting for his answer; there was a keen edge to his expression that gave it away. Remus looked back at James, met his gaze sternly. “You’re a dickhead, Dmitri. Shut up.”

James grinned, reached across and patted his arm. He did not however shut up, but kept up a random string of commentary as the movie continued - “Fuck Rolf Harris,” and “wow, that’s racist,” and before that, “d’you remember Peter? He went looking for the condom tree when he moved to Port Hedland. Couldn’t find it anywhere.”

“That’s because it’s not in Port Hedland,” Remus said, then added with slight irritation, “And good, they’re meant for blackfellas anyway.”

“Condom trees are a real thing?” Sirius asked. 

“Yes,” Remus said. “And they’re not meant for rich-arse miners to help themselves when they can afford to buy shit.”

Grabbing his hand, James squeezed his fingers gently. “I know mate.”

“Who’s Peter?” was Sirius’ next question.

“Asian kid we grew up with,” James said, voice dismissive as he turned back to the television. “S’a a bit of a tosser, but he used to trail after us, ‘cause ya know … white folk are arseholes.”

“He says,” Regulus interrupted lazily, “in a white guy’s house.”

James shrugged. “Be offended if you like, I don’t care.”

Remus caught the tiny softening of Regulus’ lips that suggested a smile, the slow blink as he broke eye contact with James and swivelled his eyes back to the movie. Sirius kicked his feet against James’ legs a few times, but his face was bright and cheerful.

When the movie ended, he pushed himself onto his feet, offered everyone drinks and then wandered towards the kitchen to make a start on cooking. Regulus followed him, but Remus held James back, reaching across the gap between their seats to push a hand against his shoulder, waiting for the others to fade from earshot before he said anything.

James glanced down at his hand and spoke first, softly. “Sorry. Were you two having a moment? Did we interrupt you?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “No, fuck-head. There’s nothing between us, will you fucking drop it?” Glaring at him darkly, James wisely stayed silent, but Remus could see disbelief glinting through the lenses of his specs. He ignored it and continued, “You’re getting laid.”

James’ eyebrows shot up, amused words forming on his lips. “Do you think so? Show your work, Moony.”

“It’s the brother, isn’t it?” Remus asked, ignoring him. He plucked some of James’ own words from his memory, threw them back at him. “D’you think I don’t know your tells by now?”

The laughter died in James’ eyes, an uncharacteristic sobriety lowering his tone. “Keep it to yourself, would’ja mate? We haven’t told Sirius yet.”

“‘Course I will,” Remus said, pushing extra sincerity into his voice to ease James’ uncertainty. It wasn’t often he saw James rattled and it always unnerved him. “You happy though?”

A grin pulled sideways across James’ face, his gaze tracking towards the doorway as though Regulus was still there, something soft and special that Remus hadn’t seen since Lily Evans colouring his features. “Yeah. It’s only new, mind. But yeah.”

“Well, that’s great James,” Remus said, quiet and genuine and steadfastly ignoring the twinge of envy that struck at his heart.

“Cheers bro,” James said, getting to his feet and pulling Remus into a haphazard hug. His breath ruffled Remus’ curls. “You next huh?”

“Doubtful,” Remus said, stepping back with a twisted smile.

They joined the others in the kitchen. Sirius was pulling things out of the fridge. “Horses, huh?” he said as Remus and James stepped into the room.

“Been thinkin’ about it, yeah,” Regulus said in a deceptively idle tone. He glanced up at Remus through his hair. “Jamie reckoned you’d be able to help me pick one.”

“What?” Remus was startled. “Pick a  _ horse _ ?”

“Sure, Moony,” James said, shoving him into a chair and promptly sitting on him. “You know horses.”

“Well,” Remus stumbled for a reply. “I mean, it depends on what you’re after. I dunno jack about conformation horses. Hell, I don’t even know about performance horses. You want a work horse that’s sound, that’s about all I know.”

Sirius stared at him, contemplation creasing his brow. It was gentle but intense, and far too long; Remus ducked behind James’ shoulder to hide the sudden uncomfortable flush darting into his face.

“Tell you what,” Sirius said, and his voice was muffled as though he’d finally turned away. “We’re about to get super busy with weaning, then shearing, then harvesting … take some time to think about what kinda horse you want and once we’ve got the heaviest part of the season under control, we’ll go out and find you a nag. Whatta ya reckon?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Regulus agreed. “Sounds reasonable,” he murmured, then without asking he cracked open a bottle of wine standing on the counter and poured glasses for them all before sliding into a seat across the table.

Remus eyed his glass nervously, then pressed his face into James’ back and wondered how he was going to manage to get through the rest of the evening without humiliating himself if Sirius kept giving him those loaded looks.


	9. September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Subscriber notifications weren't sent for Chapter August. I think several people have missed it - just a PSA for those who like chronology. :)**

September

It had been raining for three days, on and off. Sirius had been braced for flooding and the week before he, Regulus and Remus had prepared the farm as best they could. 

There had been an entire day spent in mustering the weanling lambs, nights echoing with the sad bleats of lonely offspring seeking their mothers. Remus’ dogs were an unbelievable boon to the process, responding to the slightest whistles, entirely unperturbed by the motorbikes growling along the dirt tracks. 

Remus, Sirius noted, looked rather good on a motorbike. He daydreamed vaguely about them taking a Sunday cruise together on his Goldwing, those strong shearer’s arms coiled around his waist, that hard, slim body pressed against his back under the springtime sun…

When he wasn’t gazing at Remus, Sirius watched his brother. Regulus still hadn’t said a word about whatever was going on for him, yet all the same it appeared he was making strides to improve things. He seemed more settled in subtle ways and was often out during the day - short trips that could only be for appointments, longer outings that had triggered Sirius’ curiosity. 

He asked no questions and hoped Regulus would come to him if he ever needed. And amazingly, some nights he did, slinking into whatever room Sirius was in and just sitting with him, occasionally talking if he wasn’t busy with paperwork.

The local town football season had finished, but James still made an effort to visit at least fortnightly. 

But it was Remus who occupied most of Sirius’ thoughts. Remus was, unfortunately, where he  _ wanted _ to waste his attention. It was becoming sincerely painful to be around him and not be able to crack through his shell. He had started accepting offers for a drink since the day Sirius strong-armed him into socialising, but his reticence was perfectly intact regardless.

But Sirius couldn’t stop himself. He just needed to have Remus around as much as possible.

At night times he listened for the shadowy echo of the guitar filtering through the gully. Usually Sirius couldn’t make it out, and instead he found himself cooking just to fill the emptiness, the radio tuned to Triple J. He began to actually learn songs whose tunes he recognised; Remus was fond of whistling whatever was stuck in his head each day.

Sirius wanted Remus out of his thoughts because the longing was acute torture. The problem was he didn’t want it  _ enough _ . Sirius liked Remus being in his mind. There was an agonised depth in his heart that wasn’t ready to let go of the tiny part he was allowed to have.

On the fourth morning, the rain eased off enough that Sirius risked driving into Clare in the Patrol. The length of the driveway was enough to coat his tyres in slick mud and the unsteady roads were slippery, craters filled with water. He wasn’t surprised when he saw soft bits of the road completely washed away.

He was worried about what damage he’d find in the paddocks when the galing winds eased off enough to allow him to check. It wasn’t ideal for the crops, but it had been dry enough that Siriuswas tentatively confident the ground would not end up waterlogged for too long. Only time would ultimately tell for certain.

It was raining again by the time he drove home, steady and fierce carried on the whipping wind, striking against the car like the tossing skitter of gravel. Sirius crept along the unsealed road off of Min Man, gripping the wheel in a steel-tight grip as he fought to find some traction.

About two kilometres from the house his concentration was broken.

Sirius had been running a vague eye along his fencelines as he went, checking for anything out of the ordinary. But he had not expected to see  _ Remus _ , out in the storm, fucking working.

He stopped the car in a scrawl of silty red mud and powered down the window. Leaning across the console, Sirius bellowed over the weather, “What the fuck are you doing?!”

Remus glanced up at him, water pouring off the brim of his Akubra. His body was shrouded beneath a Driza-Bone, hiding each trim muscle Sirius was so appreciative of. The question was answered when he walked directly towards the car - a downed fence.

“Hey Boss,” Remus smiled, leaning near the window but not through it. “A tree came down on this stretch, I’m just doing the fix-up.”

Sirius gaped at him, then scowled. “No you’re not. What the fuck, man?”

Remus looked surprised, uncertainty flashing through his eyes. “It’s gotta be done.”

“There’s no stock in this paddock,” Sirius barked. “So there’s no need for you to be out in this weather, and you definitely can’t clean up a fucking  _ tree _ and fix the whole goddamn stretch of fenceline on your own  _ anyway _ .”

Expression turning sheepish, Remus mumbled, “I’ve already cut the tree up. I’ve not moved the wood yet though, but the chainsaw’s clean and stored again. I got out between the drizzles to get that done.”

It was  _ far  _ from drizzling, and while Remus’ initiative impressed him, Sirius was astonished by the behaviour. It was a level of recklessness beyond what he would ever have anticipated from someone so steady and competent. On a professional level it concerned him. On a personal level, Sirius found it oddly appealing.

Reaching over, he grabbed the latch and shoved the door open. “Get in,” he growled. “You’re done for the day.”

Remus hesitated. “Bit’a rain never hurt anyone.”

“It’s getting in my car now,” Sirius snapped. “And it’ll hurt the fucking electrics, so  _ get in _ .”

With obvious reluctance, Remus did. Levering himself up into the seat, he took his hat off and shook it out before pulling the door shut and hunching down, avoiding Sirius’ eyes.

Swerving the car back onto the road, he glanced across, trying to bite back the simmering anger burning up his throat. “So what other dangerous shit are you getting up to when I’m not looking?”

Restless fingers danced along the brim of his hat. “Nothing,” Remus muttered, voice barely audible. “I just do my job, Boss.”

The ‘boss’ annoyed Sirius more than ever, stabbing behind his eyes as he threw a stinging glance across at Remus, who sat wet and dripping, head bowed into the steam beginning to rise from his coat.

“Oy, I have a fuckin’ duty of care for you,” Sirius said, ignoring the way his accent sharpened with each snapped word. “I’ve got fuckin’ insurance. You gotta be telling me when you’re out doing stuff,  _ especially _ stuff like using a chainsaw in the rain. What the fuck, man?”

Remus’ eyes were fixed on his knees. He rasped, “Sorry.”

Sirius shook his head in amazement. “What if you’d slipped? What if another tree came down? Or you cut yourself or … fuck, anything. Jesus christ, Remus.”

Remus raised one hand and began gnawing on his thumb tip. “I was being careful,” he mumbled. “I just…”

“I don’t want you getting hurt!” Sirius all-but shouted.

Trying to force a wry tone, Remus said, “Too much paperwork, right?”

“ _ No _ .” Sirius was irritated by his cavalier attitude. “Because  _ I _ don’t want  _ you _ to get hurt, you fuck-knuckle.”

There was a pause, then Remus whispered, “Sorry,” again and hunkered away from him.

The few minutes it took to get back to the  _ Blackowie _ farmhouse were spent in silence while Sirius wrested his temper back under control. An irrational desire to strip Remus down, to skate his hands over his entire body and make sure he really wasn’t hurt, roared through his brain. But as Sirius turned the engine off, he realised the only harm that had come to Remus was from his own rough handling.

Panting a frustrated breath, Sirius threw him a sideways look. “Okay, I’m sorry for going off on ya like that. Just … I care about your safety, okay?”

Remus nodded and didn’t speak.

Swallowing uncertainly, Sirius tried a softer tone. “It was good of you to get out there. I’m grateful, yeah? But next time just let me know first.”

Nodding again, Remus reached for the door handle, slipping his hat back on. He jumped lightly out of the car and began to stride off while Sirius was still trying to suck in a bracing breath. Startled, he fumbled his door open and toppled out. “Hang on!”

Remus paused and Sirius jogged over to him. In a measured tone, Remus said, “I was only going home. I promise.”

“Come inside,” Sirius said forcefully, stepping forwards and using his height to manipulate Remus into compliance. There was a side effect - he was too close for his own comfort, close enough to see the freckles beneath Remus’ eyes, close enough to catch the scent of rain water mingling with his skin. He glanced at Remus’ mouth, surly and plump and amazingly kissable. 

Sirius took a rapid step back.

It seemed Remus hadn’t noticed his interest, and Sirius was glad. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight back, aimed for encouraging instead. “Come inside,” he repeated. “And get dried off.”

Nervousness swam through Remus’ gaze as he met Sirius’ eyes, but then he nodded and fell into step as Sirius led the way to the house.

Despite covering up, Remus was damp. Water had seeped through his Ariats, his socks soaking as he peeled them off and draped them over the shafts of his boots. His jeans were equally sodden, muddy cuffs dragging against his skin. Sirius took note of his toenails - midnight blue.

He shook himself out of his oilskin and draped it over one of the old rocking chairs on the verandah and suddenly Sirius realised he was humming, mumbled words slipping between his lips. “Gimme a home among the gumtrees…”

It startled Sirius into a laugh, and Remus flushed. He hooked his hat over the chair as well, and hovered until Sirius opened the door. Strolling down the hall to the bathroom, Sirius yanked a towel out of the cupboard, tossed it to Remus. His hair was dripping down his collar, steadily dampening the few parts of him that were still dry.

“Wanna borrow some trackies?” Sirius asked, peering at his jeans again as Remus unrolled the towel and started scrubbing it across his head.

“Uh, no,” he mumbled. “She’ll be right.”

“Fuck off, you’re satched mate.” He didn’t wait for Remus to answer, but went and found a pair. He returned to find Remus with his shirt undone, shucked back so he could dry around his neck, skin gleaming with water, scrolls of ink just peeking above the fabric. He turned when Sirius stepped into the room, and his breath strangled in his chest. Sirius closed his eyes so he wouldn’t stare at the inviting slope of bare muscle. He so wanted to run his hand down Remus’ belly, to feel the strength there react to his touch.

“Thanks,” Remus muttered, snatching the trousers from him. He shrugged back into his shirt, ignoring the wetness - and the buttons, as he instead reached for his belt. Deft fingers pulled his jeans open and then, before Sirius’ distracted brain had even fully registered what was happening, Remus stepped out of them.

He wore cotton boxers, preserving his dignity for the few moments it took for him to bend down and rough the towel over his legs.

Sirius couldn’t breathe, and worse, he couldn’t look away. Starving, his eyes dragged over Remus’ arse, down his wiry legs, back up again. Heat flooded his belly, a sharp pulse of electric lust shooting through his core.

Some tiny sound escaped him, and Remus glanced around.

Gulping, Sirius licked his lips and forced words up his dry throat. “Uh, want a coffee? I’ll go and put the kettle on.”

He didn’t wait for Remus’ answer before he raced for the safety of the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, Sirius sucked in a deep, unsteady breath, let it out in a huff. “Jesus, I’m fucked,” he whispered.

It was a couple of minutes before Remus joined him, long enough for Sirius to prepare two mugs and flick the radio on. He hoped it would provide a soothing distraction, and was well rewarded when Remus stepped into the room welcomed by gentle lyrics. “ _ You’re not worth it, you deserve it… _ ”

A slow smile spread across Remus’ face. “Triple J?”

“You’ve converted me.” Sirius managed an even tone and was proud of himself. 

“This is a great song,” Remus said as he slipped into a seat. “Painful. I relate to it.”

Sirius slid a mug over to him and sank down as well.

“ _ You took the colour from me. Darling, I’ll get it back. _ ”

“You were gonna tell me about some of your history,” Sirius said, inspired. Conversation would help distract him from the fact that Remus was sitting beside him, in _his_ own clothes, damp shirt only half-buttoned and hanging loose over his shoulders.

Remus met his eyes with a direct look. Steadily, he asked, “Are you going to reprimand me first?”

Sirius shoved both hands up his face and into his hair, gripping it for a moment, grounding himself. “No, christ. I probably overreacted, okay? Just check in with me first next time you want to do something heavy.”

Watching him for a long moment, Remus finally nodded. “Okay, Boss.”

“Good.” Sirius sighed and dropped his hands, reaching for the warmth of his mug instead. “So. Teach me some things.”

He listened in amazement as Remus shared details in brief sentences - first the general history, and then how it applied to him: his grandmother, who was taken into custody as a child, kept in an isolated community of other Indigenous girls and force-fed Invader culture… it was the first time Remus had referred to Britons as ‘Invaders’ in his company and it made Sirius squirm with discomfort. He watched Remus with fresh eyes, wondering if that was the how Remus saw  _ him _ , if that was the cause of his distance.

But Remus didn’t seem to notice. Sirius got the impression there was something cathartic for him in the telling. 

“When she was twelve she was sent to work for a station in Queensland - she never spoke about it with me,” Remus said. “But mum told me that she slept in the stable and worked at least twelve hours a day, without pay. She ran away when she got pregnant, ran as far as she could get and wound up here, on Ngadjuri Country.”

Sirius knew just enough from his poxy religious education not to ask who Remus’ grandfather had been. 

“She did have a brother she got back in touch with before she died,” Remus continued, sipping his coffee. “He was part of that class-action for stolen wages. He got a payout, and it’s the most depressing win ever.”

Sirius wanted to touch him, to press away the sadness creasing the corner of Remus’ eyes, to hold his hand and offer what miniscule, insignificant support he could. He was amazed and appalled at all the history he’d never known.

“Like I said,” Remus answered when Sirius shared that feeling. “The government and all that don’t want people to know. Don’t air your dirty laundry in public, that sorta thing. But most whitefellas aren’t interested in learning it, either.”

“S’not right,” Sirius mumbled, anger prickling his skin. He glanced at Remus thoughtfully. “So … where do you sit with it all now? You told me once you didn’t like your heritage?”

Remus dragged in a deep breath. “I didn’t like being  _ different _ ,” he clarified. “School was … fucking rough. And it was super hard having a white parent. It was like … okay, so not seeing skin colour as an issue isn’t the same as accepting us Blackfella’s culture, right? Dad wasn’t into it, wanted me to grow up  _ properly assimilated _ .” Bitterness curled Remus’ tone, his expression closing off. His voice became brisk. “Which is the prevailing attitude I come across. Mum took me Outbush with the Ngadjuri Elders when I was about ten and that fully alienated my dad. That’s when he moved to Broken Hill.”

“They divorced, then?”

Remus’ lip twitched. “They were never married,” he said. “My grandmother was furious with Mum for taking up with a whitefella. I’m pretty sure that was a big part of the reason she kept him around - like, teenage rebellion. But they were over before I even started kindy.”

“But your dad must be a decent bloke, yeah?” Sirius was surprised when his gentle question was met with a sudden stoniness. 

“He has his moments,” Remus said, then drained his cup and clunked it onto the table. Something sour twisted his mouth, voice unreadable when he said, “He hates James.”

“What?” Sirius asked, incredulous. “Why?”

Remus’ lips parted, something pain-filled glancing across his face, but the words died unspoken. He shook his head, sad eyes flicking up to meet Sirius’. 

“I can’t imagine anyone hating James,” Sirius murmured. “That’s so weird.”

“Mm,” Remus placed his hands on the tabletop. He sighed, “I should go.”

“Oh. You don’t have to. Let’s watch a movie and have some lunch if you don’t wanna keep talking.”

Drumming his fingertips against the table, Remus nodded slowly. “Yeah … that sounds good.”

l-l

Once the rain stopped, they began shearing. Sirius had thought Remus was an excellent farmhand, but he was a phenomenally capable shearer. He held the sheep with deft hands and delicate feet, and they lolled between his legs quite leisurely as he ran the clippers with well practiced movements.

Remus looked excellent sweating in his shearing clothes, and despite getting in a team of contractors to help handle the numbers, Sirius barely paid attention to anyone else. He worked tirelessly alongside Remus, wool-handling for him, ten hours per day spent on the shearing floor for the best part of three weeks. Sirius was keen to get the majority of the flock shorn before flystrike or reaping needed to be thought about.

Weeks of watching Remus sweat, bent over, body working … he laughed with the other shearers, obviously enjoying their company, the camaraderie that came from a shared profession. Most of them, it transpired, Remus already knew and had known for years. There were long hours of reminiscing and catching up that Sirius watched with startlement and brilliant envy. There were no more end of day drinks, no more social visits - they were simply too busy.

Regulus helped, and the work seemed to do him good as well. 

The wool yield was decent, the bolts a good length and the micron fine but sturdy. They’d had better years, but Sirius was pleased with his first solo effort.

He couldn’t stop watching Remus. He had to stop, and he fucking couldn’t bear to.

It had been six months. When the shearing was done, he had to decide how long to extend Remus’ contract for, assuming Remus wanted to stay.

Sirius insisted on four whole days off at the end of shearing. The weather was holding and harvesting could wait for them to have a rest. 

They hadn’t seen James for the duration and he insisted on a day out, all four of them together. They drove to Burra, listening to Dope Lemon the whole way, the countryside a myriad of rich colour - green and green and green and yellow canola streaking toward the horizon like the broad, saturated stripes of a highlighter. 

They bought lunch from the bakery and ate it by the river, then trampled around the mines, climbing through the fences and wandering where they weren’t supposed to without buying keys.

Remus dawdled behind them all, earbuds in, whistling vaguely as he tracked around on his own. After a while Regulus did the same, striding lazily away towards the open cut. 

Sirius waited until he was out of earshot then grabbed James’ arm and dragged him towards the almond trees in the forgotten remnants of the abandoned hut gardens, grateful for a moment alone with him, desperate to talk. He sat down on some copper-stained stones and looked up at James, wondering where to begin.

“You okay, dude?” James asked, sinking down beside him. “What’s up?”

Sucking on his lower lip for a moment, Sirius started with the most pressing issue, the one that was also of less concern. “Are you sleeping with my brother?”

James blanched. He crossed his hands, fingers lacing together. His head bowed, eyes dropping sightless towards the ground. “Yeah.”

Sirius nodded slowly. “Thought so. How long?”

Glancing at him, James said carefully, “About three months.”

“Oh,” Sirius said as it dawned on him, amazed at how slow he’d been to make the obvious connection. “Since that night he took off.”

Nodding, James’ voice was unusually quiet. “Yeah…”

Sirius glanced over at him, baffled by James’ demeanour. He nudged him with his elbow. “I’m okay with it, you realise. It’s not like it’s an actual  _ surprise _ , you know.”

“You’re okay with it?” James repeated, earnestness animating him again. “Really?”

“Yes, dickhead. Of course I am.” He bumped James’ again, jostling him playfully. “I’ve always known you prefer Reg to me.”

“I don’t. It’s different,” James said, scuffing his Blundstones across the tan dust. 

“Ma-ate,” Sirius said, swinging an arm around him. “I’m happy for you. Chillax would you?”

James let out a tense breath and grinned. “Okay, good then. I been worried about tellin’ ya.”

“Is that why you didn’t?” Sirius asked, absorbing some of his steadiness. 

James shook his head, hair flopping about madly. “Nah, not exactly. It was more that Reggie’s been trying ta … stabilise himself a bit first. He’s been pretty how’s it goin’.”

“You’re good for him,” Sirius said. “You’re good for all of us.”

“Cheers bro,” James grinned at him and then leaned over and licked his cheek.

“Ugh, you’re disgusting.”

Laughing, Sirius felt the tension melt out of James’ muscles. But evidently his own unease was still obvious, because after a moment James pulled back and squinted at him. “Something else? What is it?”

Chewing on his lip, Sirius resisted speaking for a long moment, staring across the landscape towards the familiar lonesome figure trekking over the slimes, tipping his head lightly to whatever song was playing just for him. “It’s Remus,” he finally croaked. “I can’t keep him on.”

“Huh?” James said dumbly, obviously not comprehending fast enough. “What d’you mean?”

Frustration bled into Sirius’ voice, raising its volume. “I’ve got to let him go!” he snapped.

“ _ What _ ?” James shouted, yanking away from him. “You can’t  _ sack _ him! What the fuck?”

“Prongs,” Sirius began, fumbling for words to explain, to calm James - but James jumped to his feet and stormed over the top of him.

“Why the hell would you get rid of him? You told me you’ve doubled your grain surplus thanks to Remus’ help, and he’s just done all your fucking sheep and what, now you’re just going to boot him out?”

“Calm down!” Sirius barked. “I told you, six month trial. That’s it, we’re done.”

“Why?” James demanded, rearing over him with a truly formidable scowl. “You have to have a proper reason, fucking  _ why _ ?”

“‘Cause … I fancy him.”

“That’s not his fault!” James yelled.

Sirius looked up at him, hair scattered over his eyes. His mouth opened, but the words choked on his tongue, a painful fire flaring in his chest and sucking away all the oxygen he needed. It twisted, tight and tighter as Sirius tried to force an answer out. Finally, he managed a stammering rasp, “No … Prongs. You don’t get it.” He met James’ eyes with pure wretchedness. “I’m so in love with him I can’t fucking  _ breathe _ …”

The fight went out of James in an instant. He dropped down in front of Sirius, frantic eyes meeting his. He stretched bracing fingers across his knee. “Hold on. We’re talking about Moony?  _ My _ Moony?”

Sirius shut his eyes and nodded, his throat seized up. 

“Since  _ when _ ?” James gasped, sounding astonished.

“More or less since the fucking night we met,” Sirius admitted, hanging his head. He blinked down at James’ hand, reached for it, clung to his familiar fingers and tried to draw strength from them. “It’s too much. I can’t be around him feeling like this every day.”

James’ hand crushed around his own. “You can’t send him away because of that,” he hissed. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“I’ll let him stay in the quarters until he finds another job. I’ll give him fantastic references. I won’t do bad by him, Jim.”

“No,” James said, voice iron strong once more. “He’ll go away again, Sirius. I need him here.”

Perplexity dragged Sirius’ eyes up to meet James’ gaze again. “It’s not about  _ you _ . You’ve got a shit ton of people. What about  _ me _ ? I have one goddamn rule! - don’t get off over straight boys, and him… I can’t even explain it.”

James’ skin darkened, a flush heating his cheeks that baffled Sirius even more. Then his hand bit tight around Sirius’ again. “Okay,” he said, voice cracking, low and ardent. “Just let me talk to him before you do anything. Will you promise me that?”

“James…”

“He’s my best friend, Padfoot! I can’t lose him again, and… Look, just keep him a bit longer, through the season, and let me have a chat to him, yeah?”

Sirius sighed angrily, rolled his eyes. “What  _ difference  _ will it make?” he spat.

A desperate, panicked sound echoed in James’ throat. “Look,” he said again. “You need someone to help with reaping and carting, so … I get that you’re struggling but don’t cut off your own nose, mate.”

Grinding his teeth, Sirius glowered at James. “I fucking hate you,” he snapped.

It startled a broken laugh from James, a sad huff of sudden amusement. “I fuck your brother and that’s okay. But I ask you not to  _ unfairly _ sack a good worker and you hate me.”

A winded sob escaped Sirius, and then he leaned forwards, rested his forehead against James’ chest and wheezed, “It hurts, James.”

James’ arms curled around his shoulders, held him steady. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I know.


	10. October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In case you missed the PSA last update (because I put it up late), the subscriber notifs weren't sent for chapter August. I know some people missed reading it.**
> 
> Happy Triple J Hottest 100! Scads of the songs in this fic made the countdown. That's pretty awesome. I wasn't gonna post today, but I'm so excited by the Hottest 100 that I just did. Even though I loathe Billie Eilish (don't even go there. honestly devastated.) and neither of my top two even made it in.

October

In the days between cutting the crop and baling it, while the stalks lay in neat, heaped rows to dry, they went out to buy Regulus a horse.

Time was tight; despite  _ Blackowie _ ’s limited crop farming there was still an inevitable schedule to every harvest season. James was just as busy at  _ Terrapotter _ , but it was easier for him to get away - roster someone else on the cellar door, or leave his father alone to oversee racking the reds and blending the whites. 

Regulus had spent time flipping through  _ Horse Deals _ and browsing online, and one Saturday the four of them clambered, early and tired, into James’ car. He picked up Remus first; he looked tired and somewhat irritable, dressed in soft casual clothes instead of a workshirt. But he smiled when James rumpled his hair, and slouched down in the bucket seat with sunglasses on as they trundled up the road towards the farmhouse. 

Without complaining, Regulus and Sirius slid into the back seat and they began the drive. It was going to be a long day - they were making three stops, first Port Wakefield, then Lower Light and finally Lewiston, appointments at each with horse sellers.

They stopped in Auburn for Farmer’s Union and then James concentrated on the road while Sirius pouted with his eyes closed in the back seat and Remus and Regulus chatted lightly about what to expect from the day.

The first stop was fairly unremarkable. James knew little about horses, but he knew a lot about people and he reckoned the seller dodgy. Regulus nodded when James whispered to him. “Somethin’ not honest about him, yeah.” They left the farm disappointed.

“Don’t be discouraged, kid,” James said, surreptitiously grabbing his hand and squeezing it warmly as they walked back towards the car. 

Regulus smiled at him, eyes soft in the way that James had learned was just for him. It warmed his blood. “I’m okay. We wouldn’t be going to all these places if I thought the first horse was gonna be the right one, yeah?”

Giving him a lopsided smile, James glanced around to make sure the farm owner was gone, and then quickly kissed Regulus before clambering back into the car.

James steered onto the highway and headed south, back through the busy gateway town on the A1. He and Remus sang together as they drove, whatever random song they came up with, including the Cottees jingle, ‘Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gumtree’, ‘Along The Road to Gundagai’... It was during the third verse of ‘Waltzing Matilda’ that Regulus finally snapped, “Oh my  _ fucking _ god, sing something else.”

James glanced at him in the rear-view mirror, beaming. “The immigrants don’t like our music, Moony.”

“Mm,” Remus smiled softly as well, and reached to flick the radio on. There was a brief squabble over stations before they discovered ‘Down Under’ playing on Mix. James caught Regulus’ eye roll in the mirror, and grinned with cheeky amusement as he began to sing along. “ _ Beer does flow and men chunder _ …”

Remus arched over the console towards him and whispered, “How can he not like our music?”

“Fuckin’ foreigners, eh?” James tipped his head against Remus’. “Don’t know good stuff when they hear it.”

When they drove past Dublin, Remus stopped singing as he turned to look for the statues. “Oh,” he said, surprised. “They’ve changed the signs on these. The Ned Kelly one, it’s different.”

“New signs for new politicians,” James said, eyeing him. “See how long you were away?”

“Fuck off,” Remus said lightly. “What’s the Tin Man doing over here?”

“Dunno,” James said, glancing quickly over. He laughed suddenly. “Someone’s stolen his arms!”

“Or they’ve fallen off,” Remus grinned in reply.

“What are they all?” Sirius asked. “I’ve never understood them.”

“Political protest,” James said. “They built them when we were, what? Just kids.”

“Yeah, I reckon we saw the first one built when we were about five,” Remus said. “Remember they had the guys sitting in the trees down at Wild Horse Plains, too?”

“Yeah,” James grinned as nostalgia warmed him. “I remember that. The Environmental Observer was always my favourite.”

Remus snorted. “‘Course it was.”

James elbowed him, and then started watching for his turn-off.

Sirius held him back when they reached the next place, letting Regulus and Remus go off to inspect the horse. “What is it?” James peered at him.

“This super important conversation you’re going to have with Remus,” he sniped, voice low. “When exactly do you plan to have that?”

Nervousness rippled along James’ spine. “I’ll talk to him tonight. When I drop him home. S’not my fault you’ve kept him so busy.” Sirius’ expression was thunderous. James ignored it, and said archly, “Good thing you kept him a little longer after all, huh? How else would you be managing right now?”

“Contractors,” Sirius snapped. “Like Alphard always did. James … what’re you going to tell him?”

“Why?” James asked, his own tone reflecting Sirius’ haughty attitude. “What d’you want me to tell him?”

Tortured eyes met his. “I dunno.”

James grabbed his shoulder, squeezed it hard, and spoke with more kindness. “I’ll talk to him tonight. I promise.”

He couldn’t help watching the way Sirius looked at Remus after that, the way his pale eyes - red-rimmed and watering with his seasonal hayfever - lingered on Remus when he swung into the saddle, followed him as he put the horse through its paces. James found himself doing the same with Regulus, eyeing the pull of his muscles as he tried the horse.

They stopped in Two Wells and had lunch at The Empire before going on to their last stop. The day had stretched long, the drive time exhausting, and when they were finally done at the Lewiston stud, James reluctantly asked, “Anyone wanna stop anywhere else before we head home?”

“Macca’s run?” Sirius suggested cheekily. James gave him two fingers over his shoulder and did not turn towards Gawler, sticking to the Expressway.

“Remember the midnight Macca’s runs we used to do?” Remus asked him, resting sleepily against the headrest, smiling.

“Yeah,” James said, throwing him a grin. “And then we’d go back to the Olympus block and get drunk.”

“All the way to Munno for food you wouldn’t even eat,” Remus said. “Except the ice cream, anyway.”

James shrugged. “Never seemed like a big deal at the time, did it? Driving for hours to satisfy a random craving, then getting home and drinking until sunrise.”

“Now we’re lucky to be awake at midnight, right?” 

“How times have changed,” James agreed. 

The drive home was spent singing along to the radio, and James was privately grateful for no more musical arguments. Regulus thanked Remus for his help when they dropped them home, and Sirius gave James a final poisonous, pointed look. Then James crept his Commodore onto the backroad heading for the shearer’s quarters.

Remus yawned. “Today was alright. Fucking tiring way to spend a day off, though.”

“Thanks for helping Reggie out,” James said.

“S’fine. Second opinion, I get it. Reckon he’s gonna get the mare we saw at Lower Light.”

James nodded vaguely as he steered through the gate to Remus’ home. He killed the engine. “So, uh. Somethin’ I gotta talk to you about.”

Remus frowned, startled. “Okay,” he said carefully. “You wanna come inside? Have a cuppa.”

With a sigh, James nodded. He followed Remus inside, eyeing the comfortable lived-in vibe of his house, how comfortable he appeared there. The dogs bounced around Remus, welcoming him, and then he boiled the kettle, poured some tea and joined James on the couch.

“So. What is it?”

“Don’t punch me,” James began and Remus gave him a wry smile. “It’s about Sirius.”

He was surprised when Remus’ expression fell. “He complained about me?”

“Hey, what? No. Why would he?” Remus briefly outlined some random incident about a fallen fence and working alone. James flapped an impatient hand at him. “No, no. Nothing about that at all. No, Moony … he won’t like me telling you this, but I’m going to anyway. Okay?”

“Okay…” Remus said slowly, patting his thigh to encourage his kelpie up. She jumped onto the couch beside him and his fingers curled around her ear, grounding, distracting.

“So, he’s into you.”

“James-!”

“He fucking told me so!” James cried, cutting off Remus’ exasperated attempt to interrupt him. “He  _ told _ me in actual words. He’s been hot for you this whole time, and he’s so beside himself he was actually gonna sack you.”

Remus gaped at him. He blinked a few times, frowning as his brain clearly began to whirl. “He wants to sack me?”

“ _ Not _ the part you were supposed to focus on,” James grouched.

Remus glanced at him, eyes flicking down again a moment later. “I guess I’d better start packing up then.”

James nudged him. “ _ Or _ you could jump his bones like I know you’ve been dying to since day one.”

Panic laced Remus’ expression. His voice was strangled. “I don’t think I can,” he muttered. 

“Why not?” James asked, sincere and gentle and curious. He hoped Remus would finally tell him. “I don’t remember this ever being a problem for you before.”

Remus rubbed his eyes. “You have this way of making everything seem possible,” he said. “Like anything is okay. But it’s not okay, James. It’s not okay for me.”

“Whatta you mean?”

Sucking in a stressed breath, Remus mumbled, “Bein’ a blackfella was hard enough growing up, right? I know you didn’t have it great either.”

“No, I know you had a rough go,” James said, watching him closely, wondering what he was building up to. 

“Well, at least I always had the support of my parents. That got me through things when you went off ta boarding school, even though Dad was gone. I could call him, and I could talk ta Mum … but this is different.”

James wasn’t sure he understood what Remus was trying to tell him. “Your mum knew though. She walked in on us that time.”

Remus’ hand covered his eyes and stayed there as he said, “Mum knew and she was fine about it. But then she died.”

“And your dad…” James prompted when Remus fell silent.

“Isn’t fine about it,” he said in a hollow whisper.

James’ eyes raked over him, taking in the tension in Remus’ shoulders, the duck of his head, the sadness pulling at his lips. “What happened when you moved up there? What haven’t you told me?” he asked, sympathetic pain creeping into his tone.

“I met someone,” Remus said, still hiding. “And Dad found out. It wasn’t good.” He peeked through his fingers.

Staring at Remus, horror drizzled into James’ belly. It coloured his hushed tone. “I had no idea he was like that.”

Remus only shrugged.

“What … what did he do?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Remus muttered. “But I figure it’s easier just to only go with chicks.”

“Moony, you could be passing up something awesome. If you stay here, what can your dad even do about it?”

“He’s still my dad, James.” Remus looked at him properly, dropping his hand back to the dog’s ears. “What about honour your parents?”

“Fuck that,” James bit. “You deserve to be happy.”

“Tell that to the rest of the fucking world,” Remus spat bitterly. 

“Oy, you’re not the only blackfella who’s into blokes. What about that poet dude?”

“Steven Oliver,” Remus said. “And yeah, I know. But a lifetime of racism is surely enough without being gay on top of it.”

“Oh, Moony…” James wriggled along the seat and wrapped an arm around him. “Just think about it, would’ja? I know how you feel about Sirius. And I can tell ya, he’s a fuckin’ loud mouth about defending his rights. You wouldn’t have ta be on your own.”

Remus’ fingers rubbed aimlessly around Crow’s ears. She tipped into his touch, blissfully oblivious to her owner’s angst, muzzle pushing into James’ thigh. “How come he hasn’t said anything?” Remus asked after a moment, voice quiet and controlled again.

James choked a laugh. “He thinks you’re straight.”

Smiling, Remus dropped his forehead into James’ shoulder. “Well, at least I fooled him if I couldn’t fool myself.”

“Yeah, right,” James said sarcastically, shaking his head. He patted Remus’ back then asked the one question he was really dreading. “If you don’t tell Sirius … if he doesn’t extend your contract … what will you do?”

“Well, I’ll have to go where the work is,” Remus sighed. He shifted slightly, settled against James. “Though I’d rather stay here. You’re right, it’s my home.”

It wasn’t the resounding reassurance James wanted, but he took it.

l-l

Regulus looked damn good on a horse. James hadn’t ridden since school, had little interest in it, but he enjoyed seeing Regulus in tight R.M. William’s riding jeans and rugby jumpers. 

He bought the mare Remus had guessed at, a sturdy looking beast with lustrous eyes and long white socks. James watched them bond and saw the way a new focus helped Regulus settle.

They were both glad that Sirius knew, though James still tried to be discrete. It was hard to do when Regulus insisted on showering after working the mare and insisted on James joining him. Otherwise, he had linked up with some health services, and despite his protestations about going it alone, Regulus was certainly improving with help.

“Are you staring at my arse?” he asked James one afternoon as he was picking out the mare’s hooves.

“Absolutely,” James said. Eyeing the horse with a scrap of apprehension, he stepped closer and pressed their bodies together, bending over Regulus’ back and hooking his arms around his waist.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst,” Regulus said.

“But the best at it, right?” James asked.

“I dunno that that’s something to brag about,” Regulus said, dropping the hoof and standing up. He leaned back against James’ chest.

James put his mouth against the tender skin behind Regulus’ jaw. “You happy, kid?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” he answered. The mare shifted and stomped beside them. “In between the nightmares and the flashbacks and the fatigue from being an unpaid farmhand, yeah.”

“I hope some of that is to do with me,” James said, kissing a slow path down Regulus’ neck. 

“Some of it, yep,” Regulus said, head tipping sideways. His hair tickled James’ skin. “Sirius’ll be bringing the tractor in soon. You want him to see whatever it is you’re thinking of doing to me?”

“Prob’ly not,” James said, swaying his weight against Regulus. “You’d better come back to mine tonight.”

“Reckon I can manage that,” Regulus agreed. His hands slid over James’ arms, holding him. Softly, he said, “I like you.”

James chuckled. “I like you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter brings the Wolfstar resolution. I promise. Be nice and I'll post it on (my) Tuesday. ;)


	11. November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. I hope it's worth it. **N/B:** Featuring much smut.

November

Hay was cut, baled, stored and carted. Remus had spent weeks in tractors and trucks, while keeping up his regular stock management. The crop yield had been good; Sirius said the surplus was significantly more than he was used to.

“We only really grew what we needed for the sheep, you know?” Sirius said one day as they were loading up the farm truck. Remus preferred to load for himself, but Sirius did a good enough job with it, precise and smart . 

“Yes, you’ve said,” Remus replied, throwing a strap over the bales, four-and-a-half metres tall. He moved down to the next one, prepared to fling that over. “But efficiency means profit. That’s good for you, right?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “Right.”

They still had grain to harvest, but the last load of hay was delivered mid-afternoon on a warm, sunny day and Sirius decided they’d earned a break. Remus was grateful; seasonal carting meant long days and long queues and smart-arse farmers who liked to cut the line. He enjoyed chatting with contract drivers while waiting though - paid by the hour, they were always far more relaxed about processing time at the quality control stacks.

“Come have a drink,” Sirius said when Remus jumped down from the cab of the ancient Mack. “We need to have a chat about a couple’a things.”

Remus gulped. “Okay,” he agreed, wondering exactly what those things were. He followed Sirius towards the house, dropped into a rocking chair on the verandah and waited.

Sirius ducked inside and came back with Bundy, passing Remus a chilled can, condensation slipping beneath his fingers. “So,” he said, cracking his own drink open. “We agreed on a six month trial.”

“We did,” Remus said cautiously. 

There was a long silence. A silence filled with all the things Sirius hadn’t said to him, things Remus had started to notice after speaking to James a few weeks earlier. The heavy looks that suddenly had context. The persistent invitations. The casual touches.

Remus pressed a hand against his mouth, bit one knuckle as he waited for what Sirius was going to say.

“You’re a fucking great worker,” Sirius started, eyes glued to the neat kitchen garden stretching beyond the railing. 

“But you’re not keeping me on,” Remus said, the words sticking in his throat, rasping as he forced them out anyway. His heart thundered inside his chest, filling him with an acute rush of blood-red panic that flashed behind his eyes until he couldn’t see anything except the truth he’d tried so hard to deny: he wanted more.

Sirius was tongue-tied again, clearly struggling to find the words he needed to justify his decision. “Look, we get on. I’m just not sure we’re the right fit, though.”

“I…” Desperation roared inside Remus’ mind. “I’d like to stay, Boss.”

Sirius bowed his head, hair swinging forward and shielding his expression. “Things’re a bit complicated mate.”

Remus lunged at the only option he had and hoped to god that James had not been lying to him. “Prongs said…”

Sirius looked around at him, moving so fast, so sharp, he must have cricked his neck. His eyes glowed in the afternoon sun, frantic emotions flashing through them. His voice was low, a forbidding growl. “What?” 

Sucking in a slow breath, Remus met his gaze and put his drink down on the table between them as it threatened to slip between his fingers. “Sirius, I like you,” he began, but Sirius cut him off.

“Oh my god, he told you  _ that _ , the fucking bastard!” His accent wove around the words, rich and angry. “Look, mate-”

“No, Sirius,” Remus spoke as calmly as he could, breath huffing in his chest like he’d been running. “I don’t want to leave because I  _ like you _ .”

Sirius froze, staring at him. “No you don’t,” he finally said, astonishment dark in his voice. “You’re straight. You avoid me. What the fuck?”

Remus dropped his face into his hands, hiding as an embarrassed shame flooded him with fire, prickling his skin. His heartbeat was going to deafen him. “M’not straight,” he mumbled against his palms. “That’s  _ why  _ I avoided you.”

There was a long silence until Sirius muttered, “Is this really happening?”

“M’sorry,” Remus whispered, horror washing through him. His hands were shaking as he forced them away from his face. “I just … I didn’t.”

Sirius reached across the table and clutched his hand, eyes burning. “What?”

Forcing himself to meet Sirius’ gaze, Remus struggled the words out of his swollen throat. “If you’re laying me off because … of that. Then.” Remus shook his head, trying to clear his muddled thoughts. His tongue darted across parched lips. 

“Find some words,” Sirius said. “Then tell me.”

Taking a moment to get his breathing back under control, Remus rolled a darting glance over Sirius, taking in his bright skin, hopeful eyes, inviting pout…

Swallowing, Remus said, “I’ve been trying not to like you. But I fucking do, and I can’t bear the idea of leaving.” He met Sirius’ eyes, full and miserable. “I want to be with you.”

Sirius was out of his chair in the space of a breath. It rocked into the stone wall, dull thuds that echoed in Remus’ periphery as Sirius dropped down in front of him, grabbed his face with both hands, and kissed him.

Without hesitation, Remus kissed him back, collapsed into the soft welcome of Sirius’ lips. There was passion, tempered and gentle with pure, unexpected affection, a questioning beckon that Remus answered with ardour. 

Sirius tipped against him, hands firm against his skin. His tongue slid against Remus’ mouth, over his lip. Huffing, he met it with his own, not quite believing it was happening,  _ definitely  _ not wanting it to stop.

It was the longest first kiss Remus had ever been blessed with, lingering and warm. It felt as though Sirius was trying to absorb him, one perfect moment that held them both captive as the rest of existence disintegrated in the background.

Tentative, Remus coiled his fingers through Sirius’ hair, but his weight shifted and the chair lurched forwards on its rockers, nearly unseating him. A steadying hand fumbled against Sirius’ chest.

Warm fingers wrapped around his own. An amazed expression twisted Sirius’ face into an odd grin as he looked up and met Remus’ eyes. “I helped you pick up chicks.”

It startled Remus into a well-needed laugh. He twisted Sirius’ hair gently, marvelling at its softness, snagging between his fingers. Sirius leaned into his touch, head cocking sideways, eyes burning into Remus’. He licked his lips, but Remus spoke before he could. “So, am I off the payroll then?”

Sirius’ eyes narrowed but humour quirked his mouth. “That depends,” he muttered, stroking his thumb against the back of Remus’ hand. “Are you going to maintain this … professional distance?”

Leaning down, Remus pressed his face into Sirius’ hair, put his lips against his ear and whispered, “If you sack me for not making out with you then I go to Fair Work.”

Sirius laughed, bright and easy. “I guess you’re staying then.”

More pleased than he thought he should be, Remus grinned and kissed Sirius’ ear.

“Oh,” Sirius sighed. “Jesus. You’re kissing me.”

Reeling, Remus marvelled at his tone, at the unexpected longing he heard there, the agony Sirius must have put himself through trying to hold it in, the deep and all-consuming sort of suffering Remus had thought was just for him, his alone to endure.

Gently, he dragged Sirius by the hair, tipping his head back. Then Remus kissed him again, firm presses lazing down his exposed throat. Sirius gasped and shuddered, his hand convulsing around Remus’, crushing his fingers. His free hand snaked around Remus’ neck, smoothed up the back of his head, held him close.

Remus dragged his tongue down the taut cords in Sirius’ neck, into the hollow of his throat, cradling his head as it lolled backwards. A soft grunt breathed through Sirius’ teeth, and then he moved fast and decisive, shoving himself off of the ground and onto Remus’ lap.

The chair rocked back, thudding against the wall. Remus’ hands flew to the armrests, heart surging inside his chest as his reflexes kicked into overdrive … but then Sirius settled against him, swaying his weight to stabilise the seat, and laughed gently as he pressed his lips to Remus’ again, mouth open over his, teeth scratching his skin. 

Remus tilted against him, tipping into the kiss and letting it overpower him. His hands shifted of their own volition, tracing the hard angles of Sirius’ body, the strength in his muscles, mapping him. Sirius wriggled as close as he could, wedged into the chair, and held Remus tight, drowning him in sensation as he deepened the kiss with a strange sort of frantic precision. It had Remus shivering and gasping for breath, and most of all it had him wondering why he’d tried so hard to stop it happening.

Sirius’ hand tangled in the collar of his hi-vis, pulling roughly at the buttons. His mouth dragged sideways, nipping Remus’ jaw with a sweet affection that obscurely reminded him of Crow, the way she nipped his elbows in greeting when he returned home after a long day.

“As excellent as this is,” Remus murmured, turning his face towards Sirius’ hair again. “You’re fucking heavy and my legs are going to sleep.”

“Oy, how come James can sit on you without you complaining?” Sirius said in a hushed voice, rolling his hips down against Remus’ thighs.

“Because James doesn’t weigh enough to be counted as a real man,” Remus said, hooking his thumb in the back of Sirius’ jeans. 

Sirius’ breath crept unsteadily against his cheek, and then with some considerable difficulty he manoeuvered himself off Remus’ lap and stood up. He reached out an inviting hand. “Come inside,” Sirius offered. “And I’ll show you a real man.”

A grin stretched Remus’ mouth. “That’s a terrible line.”

“Just stand up, would you?”

Remus rolled his eyes but indulged him, slipping his fingers into Sirius’ palm and letting himself be levered up. Sirius dragged Remus into the house, abandoning their drinks, and tugged him down the dark hallway towards a bedroom.

Hesitating in the doorway, Remus let Sirius stride in and slip away from him. A river of uncertainty trickled through him. “I … I don’t…”

“I do,” Sirius said, ripping his curtains shut and snapping on a bedside lamp. He turned to Remus, chewing on his lip, eyes gleaming in the shadows. Remus saw the hunger of his own anticipation reflected back at him: nerves, excitement, overwhelming desire.

“Fuck,” Remus whispered, bowing his head and rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Yes,” Sirius said, his voice almost a plea, more question than reply. “Please.”

Remus scuffed his fingers against the door frame, grounding himself. “We’ve only just…”

“Months, Remus!” Sirius barked over him. Then his voice softened as Remus glanced up again, met his eyes. “ _ Months _ . You can’t seriously want to wait.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Remus agreed, smiling slowly. 

“Token objection satisfied?” Sirius asked, arching his brows. Remus nodded. “Then get the fuck in here and shut the door.”

“Bossy,” Remus murmured, but did as directed.

Sirius grabbed him as soon as the door clicked shut, strong muscled arms tight around his waist, mouth against his ear. “I’m quite happy for you to be the boss in bed,” he offered, and electricity coursed along Remus’ nerves. “But I’m too fucking impatient this time. No games. Just you and me. Right now.”

Eyeing him, Remus teased, “I can’t believe I thought you were charming.”

Sirius grinned against his skin. “There’s a time and place for charm,” he muttered, kissing Remus’ neck. “I’m gonna take your clothes off now, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Remus agreed, shuddering as Sirius stepped back and looked at him, full eye-contact, an intense and unrelenting stare that bruised its way into Remus’ very soul as careless fingers yanked his buttons open, shoved his shirt off, dropped to his belt.

Glorious need poured into his blood and set fire to his nerve endings, sparking in every place Sirius touched. Remus leaned in and grabbed him, kissed him deep and slow, swaying towards him as Sirius pulled his jeans open and shucked them down.

They’d missed a few steps, Remus mused in some delirious dark corner of his mind as Sirius promptly shoved a hand into his boxers and curled it around his cock. So much for foreplay. Sirius huffed and groaned into his mouth, shifting his hand with slow, sure movements, gauging Remus’ size, his shape … Sirius’ palm rolled across the glans and sparks of pleasure burst tiny white stars behind Remus’ eyelids. His breath swept harsh into his lungs, teeth snapping around Sirius’ lip.

“Mm.” Sirius rushed against him, kissing Remus hard. He was breathless when he pulled back, eyes dark with lust as he touched his mouth briefly. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” Remus breathed, gasping as Sirius’ hand rolled over his cock again. 

Sirius stuck his fingers in his mouth, then put them, wet and slippery, against Remus’ chest. “Don’t be sorry,” he muttered, dragging them down Remus’ skin. Hooking them into the waistband of Remus’ boxers, he dropped to his knees.

Remus sucked in a sharp breath and let it out on a strange, embarrassing warble as Sirius pulled his shorts down and coiled his tongue around the head of Remus’ cock, wet heat ricocheting bliss through his entire body. 

Slowly, Sirius licked him, tasted him, one arm wrapping around Remus’ arse, the other moving in tandem with each exploratory shift of his mouth. Soft noises vibrated in his throat, trembled against Remus’ skin and excited him. 

Tangled in his clothes, Remus stumbled back against the door and let it hold him up. One hand slammed against the wood, the other twined in Sirius’ hair, thoughtlessly tugging him forwards.

But Sirius didn’t seem to mind; he pushed his head against Remus’ fingers and took him deeper. Eyes closed, Remus rested his head against the bedroom door and surrendered himself to it, to the gentle suck and slide and the incredible amount of tongue and the firm squeeze of Sirius’ callused fist, until it all began to blur into a haze of heady pleasure and he wasn’t even quite sure where Sirius was touching anymore, only that his chest was heaving with every laboured breath he took, and that he was so damn close…

“Fuck, stop,” Remus wheezed suddenly, shoving Sirius back. He looked down, saw Sirius gazing up at him with parted, pouting lips, and nearly came anyway. “Argh, just … not yet.”

Something unbearably smug brightened Sirius’ face. “Okay,” he grinned. His fingers bit into Remus’ skin, prompting him towards the floor. He folded down immediately, sprawling amidst his abandoned clothes as Sirius pulled him close, kissed him. His chin was damp and sticky, his tongue tasted like pre-come, and Remus dived after it.

With trembling fingers, he began to divest Sirius of his clothes as well, a much harder task when half of his brain was fixated on trying to get his cock back in touch with Sirius’ body. Remus’ hands shook, he lacked any sort of finesse and he was very keen to rebalance the scales in his favour.

He sighed against Sirius’ lips when they were finally bare skinned together. Sirius hauled him close, chest against chest, heartbeats pounding into one another. And Remus paused for a moment, drawing back so he could watch his own hand trail down Sirius’ skin, to finally see the contrast of their skin tones.

Sirius watched him, looking a little confused and a lot aroused. “Remus?”

“Mm? Yes?”

His arm tightened around Remus’ waist, tongue sweeping across his lower lip. Sirius’ voice was the faintest whisper, low and only shades away from timid. “Will you fuck me? Do you do that?”

“I… if you want,” Remus said, startled. “You … you’re sure?”

“Hell fucking yes,” Sirius muttered. “But not on the floor. Bed.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Couldn’ta guessed that bit for myself, thanks.”

Smiling, Sirius leaned in and kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip for a dawdling moment before breaking away with a sigh. He clambered to his feet, Remus doing the same, and they tumbled towards the bed instead.

Sirius sprawled on his back and pulled Remus down with him, stretching and shifting, fitting their bodies together. He bent one knee, slid it along Remus’ side. “Jesus, you’re bony,” he muttered, pressing his foot into Remus’ arse, forcing him down. Hipbones knocked together painfully, but Remus forgot it a second later when his cock touched Sirius’. He reached a hand down, wrapped it around them both. Sirius rutted against him, heel digging pain into Remus’ glutes. “Now, now,  _ now _ …” he grumbled.

“Oh my god,” Remus mumbled, pressing his mouth into Sirius’ neck. “Fuckin’ calm down.”

“No,” Sirius barked. His hand slid down between them, grabbed Remus’ wrist and dragged him lower.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Remus shifted his fingers carefully against Sirius’ skin, bumping against Sirius’ hand as he guided him. He stared, entranced, at Sirius’ face, at the desire warping his features, the shift of his lips with every tiny sound, every unsteady gasp. Sirius pushed towards him. “Hold on,” Remus whispered, stroking him gently. “We need…”

Sirius groaned with a desperate impatience that was somehow endearing rather than annoying, and rolled beneath him to fumble through the drawer in his bedside. He pulled out a bottle of lube, clumsily squirted it across his palm, then reached and grabbed Remus’ fingers, smearing it over his hand as well. “Okay,” he breathed, voice rasping. “Now get on with it. Touch me … like this...”

Together, they shifted through the motions, Remus mumbling instructions in an attempt to stop Sirius from rushing himself. He seemed to have little interest in taking the time necessary to avoid injury, and the heat of his desire made Remus dizzy.

“You’re gonna get hurt,” he mumbled against Sirius’ mouth as they tangled together, Sirius nudging sharply against his hand.

“Don’t care,” Sirius muttered back, half-kissing him in between words. His fingers dug into Remus’ shoulders, body twisting against him.

Drawing on some deep reserve, Remus steadied him. Pushing Sirius’ hand out the way, he positioned himself and smoothed their bodies together. “Breathe,” he whispered, then kissed Sirius thoroughly as he carefully eased his cock into Sirius’ body. “Ah. Relax.”

Directly ignoring him, Sirius spread his hands wide across Remus’ hips and angled against him, pulling Remus into him - slow because he had to be, but determined. Adamant, forceful fingers bit into Remus’ flesh and dragged him closer. He let Sirius guide him, mind spluttering as feeling overwhelmed him; Sirius’ unbelievable warmth, and his blinding urgency, which permeated Remus’ muscles everywhere Sirius clung to him. 

Twisting, grinding against him, Sirius moaned, a broken sound that cracked in his throat as he altered the slant of Remus’ body. 

Shifting his hips carefully, Remus gave over to Sirius’ impulsive directions, the sway of his hips, the silent demands of his body that drove them slowly together. Beneath a scattering of dark hair, his pale face was flushed, lips parted and panting.

Emotion roared a swamping tide up Remus’ spine and he bent down and closed his mouth over Sirius’, kissed him breathlessly, hungry, adoring… Sirius kissed him back with clumsy ardour, then mumbled against his lips, “C’mon, please… Fuck me.”

Remus’ blood sang white hot through his veins, driving his hips in a sudden rough jerk.

“Unh.” Sirius grunted, teeth snagging his lower lip. Remus tried to read him, but his eyes were screwed shut, expression more difficult to interpret than Remus would like; it was too easy to get things wrong. But then Sirius tugged hard on his hips again, digging his heels into the mattress and arching up. A gasping groan escaped him, skating across Remus’ cheek. “Oh…”

A thrill rippled through Remus’ belly and he hooked his arms around Sirius, holding him as close as he could possibly get, then tried to keep the angle as he thrust in, smoothly taking over now he was satisfied Sirius was properly comfortable. Every atom in Remus’ body realigned in the pursuit of giving and receiving pleasure.

He buried his face in Sirius’ neck, breathing his scent, mouthing vaguely at his skin, losing himself in his body. Sirius wriggled one hand between them and stroked himself in time to the shift of Remus’ hips, curled the other hand through Remus’ hair, and reacted to everything he did with garbled noises and enthusiastic movements.

Remus’ brain disconnected. There was nothing left in the world except the places his body touched Sirius and what that connection was doing to him. It was eating him alive, dissolving all the painful places his mind had nurtured, smoothing out the scars of his neuroses and anxieties. He was powerless to fight it, swept along in the pure, rich bliss of Sirius’ willing neediness.

He sensed when Sirius was close, the tension winding through his muscles, the erratic sweep of his breath against Remus’ ear, the way that hand tightened in his hair, a welcome sting of soft pain. Sirius’ body flexed and arched up, muscles pulsing around Remus’ cock and throwing him over the edge in a spiral of orgasmic delirium.

Teeth pressed into his clavicle, Remus hugged Sirius against him, seeking the safety and support of his body as he lost control of his own for several implosive moments. Starbursts exploded through his brain, wiping everything away in a rush of pleasure. 

Stillness crept into the space it left behind, and Remus gradually came back to awareness. He was trembling, clinging to Sirius, a slippery warmth coating his belly that was definitely not sweat.

“Oh no,” Sirius puffed in his ear, a whispered lamentation. “Is it over already?”

Remus was surprised into a soft laugh. He dragged himself away from Sirius’ body, kissing him when he winced.

Sirius caught him when he tried to roll away, trapping their bodies together, languid muscles separated only by a thin layer of perspiration. “More,” Sirius mumbled, but his body was limp and heavy against the bed, glazed fatigue glossing his eyes.

“Not yet, jesus,” Remus mumbled, giving in and settling against him.

Sirius’ fingers combed through his hair. He sighed. “Definitely not straight. You knew what you were doing. Wow.”

“Mm,” Remus murmured, nuzzling into Sirius’ shoulder. “And you make a lot of distracting noises, like a chick.”

Sirius laughed, clear, genuine joy. “Well, I wouldn’t know.”

“You never been with a girl?” Remus asked, glancing up at him, slightly surprised. “Not even as a kid?”

“Nah,” Sirius said. “Never had the slightest interest. Girls are great, but they just do nothing for me.”

“Gold star,” Remus said, kissing his chest idly.

“You too,” Sirius agreed. “Do you have a label I need to know about then? Or are you more like James and don’t give a fuck?”

“No one’s like James,” Remus said, and yawned. Tiredness began to seep into his muscles, but the question reminded him suddenly of a whole world of angst waiting to be reinhabited. His voice dropped to a frowned mumble. “Bisexual, I guess. But I was trying to … not be.”

There was a pause, then Sirius kissed his brow. “Because I’m your boss?”

Remus’ lips parted, but he couldn’t find the words. They simmered away, unformed before he could catch them and create an answer.

He was amazed when Sirius seemed to sense it. “Okay, pause a moment,” he murmured, and then pulled away from Remus to fumble through his drawer again. Deft and discrete, he pulled a wet towel from a packet stowed at the back and swiped it over Remus’ skin. It made him shiver.

Tidying himself next, Sirius discarded the wipe with a careless shrug and wriggled back down beside Remus. Despite the warmth of the day, the room was well-insulated and a chill began to creep across his bare skin. Sirius replaced some of the heat, slipping an arm around him, tangling their legs together. Lying on his side, he kissed Remus sweetly, then said, “Right, so. You were saying?”

“It’s nothing,” Remus said, trying desperately to stay in the golden circle of post-coital security, not wanting to engage with all the reasons he had avoided this precise thing. 

“No one tries to deny their fucking nature for nothing, Remus,” Sirius said, gentler than James would have said it but still laced with a level of arrogance that eluded Remus’ quiet-type of confidence. “I’m your boyfriend now, you have to tell me stuff.”

Remus snorted. “Alright, Glenn Close. Fuck, you move fast.”

“ _ Months _ , Remus,” Sirius growled, brushing his nose across Remus’ cheek. His voice softened. “And I had no idea. Please tell me why?”

Sliding his hand across Sirius’ chest, Remus stared vaguely at his skin, too-pale and unblemished and soft beneath his work-roughened palm. “My, uh. My dad. He’s a homophobe.”

Sudden rigidity caught Sirius’ muscles. He drew in a sharp, audible breath, and forcibly relaxed as he released it again. “Right,” he said, voice low and dark.

“Mm,” Remus said, keeping his eyes fixed on the defined arch of Sirius’ ribcage. “So I was just gonna avoid the issue, you know?”

“That’s fucked,” Sirius said, kissing his jawbone. “You were really gonna try and do that forever?”

Fear wobbled through Remus. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not like I had to be alone or anything, right? Girls are a genuine option for me, so…”

“Not anymore they aren’t,” Sirius smiled. 

“Possessive,” Remus replied, shoving him gently. 

“You’re my employee,” Sirius teased, mouthing his skin idly. “I own you.”

Shaking his head against the mattress, Remus smiled and said with indulgent amusement, “Don’t say that to a blackfella.”

“Shit, yeah. Sorry,” Sirius squeezed him. “Tactless arsehole. Tell me more about your dad?”

Remus shivered. “Like what?” he asked, tone carefully guarded.

“Like what he did to you.” Sirius’ tone was carefully light, a storm hidden just beneath the surface.

Sighing, Remus pressed his face into Sirius’ chest. “Not right now, please.”

Sirius’ arm tightened around him. He snuggled closer, wriggling like Remus’ dogs as he fitted them properly together. “Okay,” he whispered. “But I do want to know.”

Merely grunting in reply, Remus relaxed into Sirius’ warmth and began to doze, uneasy but sated, breathing in the special scent of his skin. Vague thoughts danced through his mind, skittering away before he could register them, time skewing as his brain rested.

He was roused by the distant chirp of tinny speakers. “ _ It’s BCF-in’ fuunnn… _ ”

“Hmf,” Sirius mumbled, squeezing him when Remus shifted. “Whassit?”

“Reckon your brother’s home,” Remus yawned. “I can hear the telly.”

Hand smoothing down his side, Sirius tried to press him closer. He made some sleepy sounds, then forced his voice to work, croakily muttering, “Damn. I wanted to fuck you again.”

“Mm,” Remus sighed and pulled away. “I should go, though, check my dogs … what’s the time?”

“Fuck knows,” Sirius mumbled, releasing him with obvious reluctance. He gazed at Remus for a long moment, expression unreadable, then reached up and skated his fingers across Remus’ brow, tracing his bone structure. “You can stay.”

“No,” Remus said. “The puppies need feeding. You have a garden to water. Besides, you’re not getting any action from me with your brother in earshot.”

Sirius groaned angrily. “Well then,” he said after a moment. “Why don’t I come to yours later? Have drinks, spend the night maybe…”

Mouth quirking into a sleepy smile, Remus nodded. “I’d like that,” he said softly. “And you do own the place.”

“Yeah, well,” Sirius mumbled, letting him go as Remus pulled away and sat up. “At least it’s properly private, huh?”

“Right,” Remus said, shuffling himself towards the edge of the bed. “All that noise you make? We’ll need it.”

Sirius sat up and curled both arms around him, holding him for one last desperate moment. “As long as you’re letting us happen, I don’t care either way.”

Heat flooded up Remus’ neck. He turned and tangled his fingers in Sirius’ sex-rumpled hair and kissed him.

Planning on a shower once he got home, Remus barely bothered with getting dressed. When Sirius threw open the bedroom door his shirt was entirely unbuttoned, belt hanging open from the loops on his jeans.

Which wouldn’t have bothered him except Regulus was in the hallway just outside.

Eyes wide, Remus flushed as he met Regulus’ gaze. Grasping a steaming cup of tea in one hand and a slice of toast in the other, his dark eyes swept over Remus, and Sirius shirtless behind him, with a vague sort of bemused curiosity. He blinked, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. “Huh,” he said. “How long has this been happening then?”

Iron-strong, Sirius said, “About two hours.” He slid a supportive hand around Remus’ waist, fingers settling against his bare skin.

Regulus nodded slowly and bit into his toast, teeth sinking into the vegemite-smeared crust with a satisfying crunch. “Cool,” he said around a mouthful of crumbs, and wandered towards the lounge room.

Remus raced for the front door.

Sirius followed him out to the driveway, pressing him against the door of his ute and kissing him madly, hands thrust into his hair, until Remus was breathless and stirred up and very reluctant to leave. He urged Sirius back and whispered, “Calm down. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” Sirius agreed, kissing him again quickly, before finally letting him go.

l-l

**News flash: I told Sirius**

**_Wahhhht!! And?  
_ ** **_What happened?  
_ ** **_TELL ME EVERYTHING!_ **

Remus rolled his eyes as James’ over-enthusiastic texts poured in, phone chiming repeatedly in the few minutes it took him to dish out the dogs’ dinner and put their bowls down.

**Everything, really?**

**_I went to school with him, I know what he looks like naked.  
_ ** **_For that matter, I know what you look like naked  
_ ** **_So yes, you can definitely tell me EVERYTHING_ **

**You’re insane  
** **What makes you think we hooked up?**

James sent him a random wave of emoticons that Remus was confident all meant something insulting. He glanced at the clock, wondering how long Sirius would be. Then he uncapped a bottle of wine, and called James.


	12. December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really want the Lyall element to be at the end of the story, but I couldn't leave it out when it's something so pivotal to Remus and Sirius' relationship. It never felt right to have it so soon after their get-together, but that's the nature of writing sometimes.

December

The weather grew steadily hotter, uncomfortable but not quite yet unbearable. Sirius’ hayfever was driving him mad, sinus headaches and congestion and streaming eyes. They were still busy on the farm, grain ripening slowly, mustering sheep into stubbled paddocks, repairing the summer shelters among myriad other daily tasks.

Remus’ work ethic was not even slightly shaken. He poured all his energy into the job and Sirius was given only what was left over at the end of the day - a man shaking with fatigue, skin bruised dark with tiredness around his eyes, but always smiling when he stepped between Sirius’ welcoming arms.

Every night Sirius asked him to stay and he was rather annoyed that Remus only accepted every two or three days. But oh, those evenings were the brightest points of his life. He thought it had been intense before, but actually having Remus was an entirely different type of fanaticism. He wanted Remus every minute of the day, and when they worked together Sirius found himself busy daydreaming, catching him in hugs at random times.

Remus endured it all with kind smiles that belied just how much he was feeling the same. His body language said things his tongue didn’t offer, but Remus opened up to him, fast and completely, in unexpected ways. 

The absolute best days, Sirius’ favourites, were the ones where he was able to stir Remus up enough that he’d discard his granite-steady professionalism and shove Sirius down in the paddock, sprawling haphazardly across abandoned clothes. 

“This is insane,” Remus mumbled one such day as he dragged his tongue down Sirius’ belly, fingers hooked in his boxers. “We’re not teenagers, what the fuck.”

“Mouths are made for licking, not asking stupid questions,” Sirius answered impatiently, tipping his hips against Remus’ chest.

Glaring up at him, Remus squinted mischievously. “I think you’ll find you’re wrong,” he said, lip tickling Sirius’ skin as he spoke.

“Impossible,” Sirius snapped. “I’m never wrong.”

Remus rolled his eyes, resting his chin against Sirius’ hip. “You sound like James. It’s so annoying.”

Shoving himself up on his elbows, Sirius scowled at him. “How are you not gagging to get your mouth on my cock? You’re not normal.”

Remus smiled at him, sly and wicked. “I like making you frustrated. It’s very entertaining to watch you squirm.”

Blood pounded in Sirius’ ears, breath shaking as Remus’ mouth shifted into the arch of his hipbone and determinedly teased him.

He learned very quickly that the more he tried to rush things the slower Remus moved. As they got used to each other he made less concessions and took charge, happily accepting Sirius’ offer to boss him in the bedroom or wherever else it was they were having sex. 

It was frantic and hungry, passionate and experimental, but filled with a mutual awe that never dulled. Every time they touched Sirius thought it couldn’t get better and every time he was wrong. The minutes or hours or sometimes, horrifically, days between fucks made him forget in small ways just how explosive it was.

He was amazed they were managing to get any work done.

Despite an apparent fearlessness about outdoor sex, Sirius noticed that Remus was most comfortable when he visited him in the shearer’s quarters. All his inhibitions eased when he was on his home turf, made him more tender and, perhaps best of all, helped him be more candid.

Because it wasn’t just sex that had Sirius in a whirlwind, but the fact that this odd, reserved man was sharing his entire being with him. There were late nights spent talking about anything and everything - race, privilege, history, politics, dogs and sheep and farming. 

Remus played his guitar sometimes, singing along. He painted Sirius’ toenails. He had a horde of wine that wasn’t James’, but varieties from other vineyards - Annie’s Lane, Naked Run, Jacob’s Creek. He always had a litre bottle of Bundaberg in the cupboard.

He taught Sirius more about Indigenous culture and history than he, ashamedly, had even known there was to learn, and Sirius kissed away the lines of guilt that crumpled Remus’ face when he confessed to avoiding parts of it himself.

By the end of a month, Sirius knew all the big things and thousands of the small things and as the days slipped towards Christmas, there was only one topic that had remained off limits.

“A week, huh?” he said over dinner one night when Remus asked for leave to visit Broken Hill. 

“Mhm.”

Sirius knew before he asked how his next question would be received. “Can I come with you?”

Remus’ eyes snapped up to meet his. “Oh. I didn’t think … I mean, wouldn’t you rather spend christmas with your brother?”

“Nope,” Sirius said, snapping his teeth around a stalk of broccoli. “Not as much as I want to spend it with you, anyway.”

“I dunno…” Remus said slowly, eyes dropping back to his plate. “How … how would you want me to introduce you?”

“I’ll introduce myself,” Sirius said. “If you’re worried. Why, what’ll he do?”

Remus dropped his cutlery, pushed his plate away and folded his hands on the table. “I’d really rather not tell you.”

“Did he hit you?” Sirius asked, cocking his head, struggling to keep his voice even. “Lock you in your room?”

“Puppy,” Remus said, his voice tight with forced patience. The endearment sent shivers of delight down his spine; if he had a tail Sirius expected he would wag it. “Telling you is only gonna upset you.”

Meeting his eyes with steel, Sirius reached over and grabbed his hands. “Tell me anyway,” he demanded.

Sucking a deep breath, Remus sighed and bowed his head and shared very few details in brief, fractured sentences that sent indignance burning lines of fire across Sirius’ skin. When Remus was done he barked, “And you think I’m gonna let you endure that on your own?”

“It won’t be like that if’m on ma’own,” Remus said, not looking at him. “‘Cause I won’t tell him about you.”

Sirius licked his lips. “If you don’t wanna … come out to him, or … or  _ re _ -come out or whatever … then I’ll respect that. But  _ I’d _ rather you let me come with and fuckin’ fight him down for you.”

Remus grinned, but it was tinged with sadness. “And what good is that gonna do?”

“Make me feel a fucking helluva lot better about what you’ve just told me,” Sirius sneered. Remus arched an eyebrow slightly, agreeing. Smoothing his thumb across the back of Remus’ hand, Sirius said more softly, “And I really just want to spend the holidays with you.”

“You’re beyond pathetic,” Remus teased gently. He glanced up, smiled shyly. “Lemme think about it, yeah?”

Concerned, Sirius tried to give him a bracing grin but it was more sad than anything else. “Yeah, okay.”

l-l

“Fuckin’ hate you,” James grumbled as Sirius threw his bag onto the tray of Remus’ ute. The dogs were in the back of the cab, panting at the window, and Remus was looking restless. “Can’t believe you’re both going away and leaving me here all fucking alone.”

“I’m right here,” Regulus deadpanned, rolling his eyes. He was tucked neatly against James’ side, their arms looped around each other.

“Shush, you,” James said, turning and kissing his temple brusquely.

“Oy, take care of my brother you utter jerk,” Sirius said, hooking the tarp down to the tray sides. “He could do so much better than you.”

“We all know it,” James said. Then he whispered something to Regulus who shrugged and wandered away. James beckoned Sirius closer. “What’re you gonna tell Lyall, then?”

Sirius chewed on his lip, irate. “I’m not cool with the whole situation, but … I promised to play by Moony’s lead.”

James snorted. “Yeah right. Let’s see how long that lasts.” He pulled Sirius into a rough hug. “You look after my boy, Padfoot. He doesn’t have too many people, and I’m pretty sure you’re his favourite.”

Grinning, Sirius squeezed him and stepped back. 

James gave him a fond smile and reached out, tugged Sirius’ ponytail. “Where’s that feather-boa I gave you? Gays can’t go to Broken Hill unless they’re in drag, you know.”

“Can’t ever have a nice moment with you, can I?” Sirius replied, rolling his eyes even as his grin pulled wider. “Moony confiscated it.”

It had not been easy to convince Remus to bring him along for the trip. Sirius was conflicted about it himself. But he wanted to meet Remus’ father, and he wanted to be with Remus, and - most of all - he wanted to provide whatever buffering protection he could. During the interim there had been many conversations with James where they compared the details of each scrappy thing Remus had shared with either of them. Neither of them knew much and it had Sirius worried.

As for christmas with his own family, Alphard would be home for midnight mass with Regulus and the Potters, and then he planned to trek up to Broken Hill on Proclamation Day to see Sirius and finally meet Remus before heading off on his next stint of grey nomading.

The drive was long and boring. They shared it, swapping halfway. Remus hunched down in the passenger seat for the first half, singing along to the radio. He stared out the window, lost to some inner musing that Sirius decided not to ask about. Instead, he squinted at the road, cranked up the air-conditioning to combat the thirty-seven degree midday heat, and listened to Remus’ mumbled singing. “ _ Run to the flicker of the sun with me… _ ”

They stopped to let the dogs out, then Remus took the wheel. He still looked distracted. “What’s up?” Sirius finally asked, interrupting a song he liked because he just couldn’t bear the tension gripping Remus’ shoulders for another moment.

“ _ Driving on the road, waiting for head-on collision… _ ”

Remus sucked in a long, slow breath. “I’m just … dreading this visit.”

Sirius’ heart twisted. He leant on the centre console and slid a reassuring hand over Remus’ leg. “Why?”

“Because you’re here,” Remus said, slowing down as a herd of goats trotted towards the road.

Stung, Sirius drew back. “Charming.”

“ _ Shit days, mistakes… _ ”

“Fuck, sorry,” Remus said, reaching for his hand and grabbing it briefly. “I mean because of … well, I know how my dad’s gonna behave. And it’s gonna be fuckin’ awful for you.”

They had agreed not to mention they were a couple, and while it made Sirius furious he also didn’t blame Remus for it, not after the scant things he’d learned. The rest of it, he was going to play by ear.

“I promise I’ll behave,” he said. 

Remus’ eyebrow twitched. “Sure.”

“Well, I promise I’ll  _ try _ to behave,” Sirius amended. “At least we’ll be together.”

Remus glanced across at him, smiling softly. “Yes,” he agreed. “That will be nice.”

“Even if we have to sneak around like teenagers,” Sirius said, grouchiness creeping beneath his words.

“Just…” Remus frowned through the windshield, mouth twitching as he searched for words. 

“Okay, look, I’ll drop it, alright?” Sirius patted his leg gently and slipped back in his chair with a sigh.

Remus’ dad was waiting for them when they pulled up. Killing the engine, the radio’s soundtrack died away and was replaced with Slim Dusty crackling through the window from an old stereo perched on the workbench. Lyall was sitting beside it, Super Dry in hand, beaming grin on his face. “Remo! Good ta see ya, kid!”

“Hi, Dad,” Remus murmured as he slid out of the car. They hugged briefly, then Remus turned to let the dogs out while Lyall approached Sirius. 

“How are ya, mate? So you’re Remo’s boss, huh?” He held out his hand.

Sirius took it, gave his name, and smiled in return. So far, so good.

Lyall was a welcoming host, and things were fine until the catch up talk eventually turned to relationships. “You got a girl yet, Rem?”

Sirius’ heart thundered inside his chest and he glanced over at Remus. His eyes were turned up, sightlessly fixed on the ceiling. He hid behind his drink. “No.”

Lyall tutted, eyeing him sharply. “Whatta ‘bout  _ James _ , then? What’s he up to?”

“He’s fine,” Remus said. Sirius flicked his gaze between them, remembering with a start that Remus had said his father hated James … that was obvious in his tone of voice, but Sirius realised Remus had never told him why.

“Hm. Good for him,” Lyall said, and Sirius figured the civility was for his benefit. “What about you, Sirro? You got a missus?”

Forcing a grin, Sirius settled back in his chair and said easily, “I wouldn’t say  _ missus _ , but I’m seeing someone, yeah.”

“Well, good for you mate. Remus needs positive role models.”

“ _ Dad _ ,” Remus snapped.

Sirius’ blood was pounding against his eardrums, outrage burning across his tongue, but he glanced at Remus’ face again and held his peace. He’d been warned, after all. 

He was glad when Lyall dropped the subject. He was amicable enough on other topics, and Sirius struggled to reconcile liking his generally cheery demeanour with his unpleasant discriminatory opinions. They niggled at him when he went to bed, causing him a restless night in his empty bedroom.

It was early when Remus eased into his room and padded across the floorboards to slide into bed with him. Sirius stirred, turning towards his warmth, snuggling against the strength of his firm body. “Mm,” he whispered around a yawn. “This is how you make a morning good. Whatcha doin’ here?”

“Dad’s just left for work,” Remus whispered back, snuffling through his hair. “M’sorry.”

“Why don’t you tell him off, Moony?” Sirius asked in a sleepy mumble, not registering the words until it was too late.

Remus stiffened against him, cuddling hands freezing against his skin. His voice was tight with anger. “I’ve tried, you know. But I’ve had to put up with that for thirty years, Sirius, alright? He’s not gonna change.”

“S’not right.”

“I came in here to make out with you, do we have to do this now?” Remus asked, exasperation not quite hiding the sadness in his voice.

“Only make out?” Sirius asked, yawning again. “What time does your dad get home?”

“Half-day, so a little after twelve.”

“Mm,” Sirius smiled, pushing towards him. “Plenty of time to more than make out.”

l-l

The visit, random homophobia aside, was quite pleasant. Christmas was warm and friendly. Sirius happily cooked and Remus agreed to sing carols. The next day Alphard joined them, and he and Lyall got on startlingly well.

They went out to the local pub, which was fine, and Lyall tried to set Remus up with a waitress, which wasn’t. Stonily, Remus turned her down, hissed harsh words at his father, and took off into the night.

“Maybe you be better ta check on ‘im, mate,” Lyall had mumbled, giving Sirius a slap on the shoulder and sending him out as well.

Remus had been filled with some type of righteous fire that night. He dragged Sirius into bed, the only other opportunity they’d had to be alone for longer than half an hour in far too many days. His anger made him rough and bossy and Sirius liked it very much, though not the reasons behind it.

The day they left, he came to a decision.

“Well, if someone’s gonna keep my boy away, I’m glad it’s a proper bloke like you, Sirius,” Lyall said, shaking his hand goodbye. “Keep him on the straight and narrow, would’ja?”

The frustration of the last few days boiled inside him, but Sirius made the conscious decision to let it bubble over. He was about to leave, there was nothing to stop him and he needed to snap back at the injustice he’d been forced to witness. It wasn’t fair to him, and it definitely wasn’t fair to Remus.

“Thanks, mate.” Smiling nastily, Sirius bit his fingers into Lyall’s hand, and he murmured proudly, “By the way, I’m fucking him.”

Confusion clouded Lyall’s face, stormy and promising rage. “‘Scuse me?”

But Sirius merely sneered and shook him off, then jumped into the ute, feeling exceptionally pleased with himself for all of fifteen seconds, before he realised his miscalculation - Lyall stormed around the cab to where Remus was leaning in the back door, securing the dogs.

Sirius caught his threatening voice. “Sirius has just told me something that I very much hope is a bad joke.”

There was a terrible pause where dread flooded Sirius’ nervous system, then Remus’ voice trembled into the space. “W-what did he say?”

“Are you screwing him?” Lyall demanded. “Is it true?”

“I…” There was panic in Remus’ voice, deep and complex and frightened. His breath trembled. “Yes.” 

“ _ How dare you! _ ” Lyall growled, snatching Remus’ shoulder and jostling him hard. “What the fuck were you playing at, bringing that into my home? You tryna trick me?”

“No…”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?!”

“That’s exactly it, Dad!” Remus snapped. “I  _ can’t _ help it!”

Lyall sucked in a breath, his voice suddenly easing. His knuckles were white around Remus’ arm. “Remus, it’s okay. I’m sorry I yelled, it’s alright, we’ll get you fixed up again. Why don’t you send him home and you stay on a bit, okay? We’ll get you help.”

Horror drizzled down Sirius’ spine. He chewed his lip and steadfastly ignored the glimmer of regret tickling the corner of his mind.

“It’s my car,” Remus mumbled. 

“I’ll get ya another car. Remo…”

“I don’t want help,” Remus muttered. “Okay? I like who I am. And I love Sirius, and James is my friend and … and that’s it.”

“Remus,” Lyall’s voice took on a placatory edge, conciliatory and keen. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“This is best,” Remus said, voice low and sober with misery. “Goodbye, Dad.”

He shoved the door shut then strode around and slid behind the wheel, cranking the engine over and zipping out of the garage as fast as was safely possible, Lyall watching them go with a mortified frown crumpling his face.

“Uhm…” Sirius tried once they were in the alleyway.

“You,” Remus said in a stony voice, “are in so much trouble.”

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but Remus hushed him with a brusque gesture as he maneuvered the car onto the road. It wasn’t until after he’d stopped to fill the fuel tank and they were steering through the streets of Broken Hill back towards the Barrier Highway that Remus spoke again.

“You couldn’ta kept your mouth shut for ten more minutes, could you?” he demanded, tense as he tried to keep his tone in check. Sirius could feel the emotion coming off him, filling the air in the cab.

“He’s lucky I didn’t fuckin’ take a swing at him,” Sirius said defensively, crossing his arms. “Days ago, at that.”

“You knew what you were walking into! I told you how he is,” Remus cried. “Why would you make trouble for me when we were  _ leaving _ ?”

“He makes you feel bad about yourself,” Sirius scowled.

“Who gave you the fucking right,” Remus grumbled, steering through the hills.

“See, that’s the difference between us Remus,” Sirius snapped, arcing up. “I don’t wait for people to give me my rights.”

Myriad emotions flashed across Remus’ face, bigger and deeper than Sirius meant to provoke. After a shivering moment he punched the volume control for the radio and spat, “Don’t talk to me for a while.”

Annoyed but astute enough to be compliant, Sirius shifted his weight and tipped towards the window, trying to ignore the heat of Remus’ temper filling the car with heavy pressure. He didn’t sing along to the radio and that more than anything else made Sirius nervous. The drive home was marked in the random playlist Remus kept turned obnoxiously loud.

“ _ I’m out of shame, been passed it… _ ”

Sirius glanced across and thought about apologising, but the tight arch of Remus’ jaw discouraged him - too soon. He looked back out the window at some emus stalking across the barren ground.

“ _ If I did not have an ego I might not think that I was right… _ ”

Scoffing, Sirius wondered if Remus saw the irony of those particular lyrics. But Remus steadfastly ignored him and Sirius wriggled a little lower in his seat.

“ _ Leave me alone and lonely… _ ”

Gnawing on his lip, left to his own thoughts, worry began to creep in. Perhaps indeed Sirius had overstepped the mark; Remus certainly did not appear to be cooling off. The kilometres skidded away beneath the Ranger’s tyres, lost in dusty blue tarmac and hot summer air.

“ _ When you think something’s missing… _ ”

Sirius tasted blood and began chewing on his fingertips instead. His self-righteousness slowly abandoned him, for as much as he felt he was correct to slap back at Lyall’s attitude, he had clearly misinterpreted just how difficult the whole thing was for Remus. He had promised to respect the secret at Remus’ request - but James was right, his temper had not allowed it. Sirius wasn’t even surprised at himself.

“ _ Every time I get started you pull me apart… _ ”

One hour slid towards two and Sirius began to wonder if they were going to spend the whole drive in brutalising silence. He risked another glance at Remus. He looked less furious and more tired, but it did not offer Sirius much reassurance.

“ _ The hardest love lies between you-u and I… _ ”

Finally, at Yunta, Remus pulled into a layby and stopped the car. He scrubbed both hands over his face and into his hair, shaking it back. With an enormous sigh, he swung the door open and jumped out, creaking the back door open instead and letting the dogs out. He glanced between the seats, met Sirius’ wretched gaze with flat eyes. “You coming?”

Sirius was out of the car faster than his brain could process. Licking his lips, he reached for Crow’s leash and fell into step with Remus as they strolled towards the sparse scrub.

“Wasn’t fair of me to ask you to lie, I know,” Remus muttered at length, startling Sirius. “But you don’t get to speak for me.”

“Fair,” Sirius said quietly.

“Ya got no idea how he can be,” Remus sighed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, twitched an unimpressed eyebrow and turned the screen towards Sirius. The notification reel was impressively decorated. “He’s absolutely bunta, and it doesn’t stop because we left. I’m gonna be dealing with fallout from this for days. At  _ least _ .”

“M’sorry,” Sirius said, glancing at him nervously. “But I’ve got ya back, Moony. I started it, let me handle it if you like. I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you anymore.”

“You’re a dickhead,” Remus said evenly. “I think I get what you were try’na do. Don’t even blame ya, really. But that wasn’t cool, Boss.”

“Don’t call me ‘Boss’ while we’re fighting,” Sirius grumbled, reaching for Remus’ free hand. 

“I don’t think we’re fighting anymore,” Remus said, giving him a wry look. “I’m not gonna break up with you over this, so I’m not gonna stay cross about it. But we need better ground rules about how we tell people, okay?”

“I’m properly sorry,” Sirius said again as relief crashed over him. He stepped closer to Remus, seeking his steady presence, reaffirmed when he didn’t pull away. “I just wanted to hurt him for being such a jerk to you. To gay people in general.”

“He’s my father,” Remus reminded him. “You gotta believe that I know how to handle him.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “‘Course.”

“Try not to be this stress-inducing going forwards, would’ja?”

Sirius chuckled begrudgingly and slipped his arm around Remus’ waist, Crow’s lead carefully looped around his wrist. “I’ll do my best.”

“One more thing,” Remus said softly, tipping his chin away as Sirius leaned closer. “I might not be a loud mouth, but that doesn’t mean I don’t fight for my rights.”

“Fuck,” Sirius muttered, hearing guilt beneath Remus’ words. “I know you do.”

“Alright then,” Remus said. “I think that covers most of it. First fight done then.”

Laughing again, more genuinely, Sirius kissed Remus’ cheek. “Well, make up sex?”

“Uh, no,” Remus said, squinting sideways at him. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“Car sex,” Sirius beamed. “In the tray? Against the door? Quite happy to kneel in the dust if it means I get to touch you. We shoulda done it at Cockburn, that would’a been hilarious.”

“Cockburn,” Remus murmured slyly. “Is definitely not hilarious. And it’s pronounced ‘Coburn’.”

“It absolutely is not,” Sirius laughed. Then, mouthing along Remus’ jaw, he said, “Lemme blow you. Please?”

Remus sighed and kissed him, long and slow, full of irritation and forgiveness, longing and frustration. In the end he urged Sirius back and declined. “There’s too much traffic on this road, s’not safe. But I’ll more than make up for it when we get home?”

Disappointed, Sirius nonetheless agreed. He slipped his fingers into Remus’ pocket and fished out the car keys. “Let’s get home quick then.”

l-l

“It’s new year’s eve, how the fuck have you been on the phone all day?” James peered critically at Remus as Sirius entered the room burdened with drinks. 

“Well,” Remus said, not looking up as he tapped away at a text message. “First there was a job offer-”

“What?” James demanded, and Sirius looked around, startled. “You’re not leaving?”

“No,” Remus said quite calmly. “But that doesn’t stop other people offering me work. And then I was talking to one of the Elders from Ngadjuri Nation.”

“Oh,” James said, smiling slowly. “Well, that’s great.”

“Mm,” Remus murmured, looking up as Sirius passed him a cup. He smiled in thanks, tired-eyed and peaceable. “Yeah, hopefully. And now, I’m texting Dad.”

Sirius slid onto the couch beside Remus, impatiently gesturing James into a chair as Regulus finished fiddling with the DVD player and threw himself into a seat as well. “Everything okay?” he asked lowly, casting cautious eyes at Remus.

Despite attempts at emotional maturity, there had been spikes of random temper over the last few days as Remus tried to salvage the dramatic ruins Sirius had made of his familial relationship. James had copped venting from them both, but adamantly refused to get involved and Sirius hadn’t wanted to bother Regulus.

“Maybe,” Remus replied, frowning at the screen. He’d been enduring alternating streams of phone calls and texts with complete radio silence, and sometimes Sirius was around to witness the strategies Lyall tried to entice Remus with - all of it worse than he would have imagined if he’d stopped to give it some proper forethought. He turned the phone towards Sirius. “Take a look.”

**_I don’t support this, but if you’re happy I’ll try_ **

Blinking, Sirius met Remus’ eyes. “Well, that’s gotta be good.”

Remus shrugged, looking unconvinced. “He might be drunk. We’ll see what happens.”

“He can’t touch you while you’re all the way over here, Moony,” James interjected, randomly throwing Cheezels at them.

“Forget about it for now,” Remus said, snapping the screen lock and setting the phone down as the movie began. “M’over it anyway.”

Sirius stretched out, settling against Remus who made space for him. They’d spent time on the farm that morning and work was good for getting the tension out, for both of them. Even better had been sharing a shower when they came in, the water warm in the pipes from the heat of the day, bodies hotter still, gritty with sweat and soil.

There was a grass fire at Burra and the smoke lingered a distant dreary haze on the horizon, mixing with the scent of hot dust and eucalyptus as the breeze blew steady and shifting through the house. James had arrived just after lunch, singing ‘Shaddap You Face’ and complaining insincerely about staying in when they could be partying.

The plan was to spend the afternoon lazing out of the sun, hit the Bentley for drinks and dancing until midnight and then Regulus would drive them safely back to James’ cottage. He had volunteered to be desi’ and no one had argued with him.

“V’never understood this movie,” Sirius muttered, slipping down the couch and putting his head in Remus’ lap. Long fingers coiled immediately through his hair, and Sirius smiled contentedly.

“What’s to get?” James asked. “It’s about how Einstein invented the electric guitar.”

“Yeah, except he  _ didn’t _ ,” Sirius snapped back. 

“Who says he didn’t?” Remus teased. “Whatta you know about Einstein, huh?”

“I know he wasn’t Tasmanian,” Sirius said. “And he didn’t invent rock-and-roll music.”

“You’re so boring, Padfoot,” James grinned across at him. “Fuckin’ foreigner.”

“Shut up, Wogboy.”

James stuck his tongue out. “You wouldn’t know funny if it hit you in the face,” he beamed.

“Try it,” Regulus said, smirking slightly as he glanced across at them. “Hit him in the face and let’s see how funny it is.”

“Piss off,” Sirius said, but he was grinning. Awkwardly, he took a sip from his cup and then put it on the floor beside Remus’ feet. “You’re all the worst.”

It wasn’t true of course; Sirius was surrounded by his favourite people. A year ago, he had been reeling from his uncle’s decision to hand the farm over, feeling blindsided and overwhelmed with only James nearby to support him. Now, he had his brother home again, gradually improving and looking towards the future. He had James, the one bright spot of light always there to guide him. 

And best of all, he had Remus. Complicated, infuriating Remus who fit into all the gaping emptiness in his life, who was a work in progress but also amazingly dependable. Gorgeous bloody Remus, who loved him.

Sirius rolled over and looked up at him, ignoring the movie as it sang ‘Great Southern Land’.

“I was thinking,” he whispered, grabbing Remus’ hand and kissing his fingertips with idle lips. “That this year, instead of beans we should plant lupins.”

Eyes floating shut, Remus smiled, wide and genuine and terribly soft. “You’re not funny,” he whispered back, and leant down to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!
> 
> I may one day post a bonus chapter from Reggie's POV - I have begun drafting it, and I always sorta planned it. But whether or not it eventuates I can't say at this point. Thanks to everyone who's enjoyed this story, I'm very grateful. :))


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